The Multi-Fandom Games
by WritingInTheArena
Summary: The Hunger Games meets Sherlock, Doctor who, Alice and Wonderland, Merlin, Harry Potter and any other fandom characters that are reviewed/PM'd to me :) Written from the POV of a capitol viewer (Rose Tyler), UNLESS I GET REVIEWS ASKING FROM THE POV'S OF THE CHARACTERS IN THE GAMES. Please have a read :) It means a lot. xxx
1. Reaping D1-D3

**The Multi-Fandom Games.**

**CHAPTER ONE**

"Here we have our tributes this year!" Caesar Flickerman announces, gesturing to the screen behind him. It's lit up with the faces of the unfortunates; each wearing varying degrees of hunger and desperation. I watch with only mild interest, indifferent to the games, as per usual. They've become so ordinary, so commonplace here in the Capitol that it's virtually only the sponsors that watch the games with the keen interest we all used to display.

It's the evening of Reaping Day. All the Capitol viewers are either down t the betting station, or safe and warm inside their homes, like me. It's raining outside, and I've got a fire going inside my living room; something I've always viewed as a typical pleasant evening. I don't often get to be alone like this. So often i have my mother and Mickey buzzing around my life, always asking, demanding. Tonight, I am alone. Gladly, alone.

I get these headaches. More and more frequently of late. I feel as though... I should be somewhere else. Somewhere better. Maybe not even better, just somewhere more exciting than this. There has to be _more_ than just waking up to the same old thing; day after day. We're meant to _do_ something with our lives, not just sit around and fancy ourselves. But of course this is the Capitol, and I can't say that.

I stare at the faces of the tributes on the screen and frown. I find myself, in this very moment, almost envying them. They might not think they're free, they might think they lead the most oppressed life possible, but at least they _know_ it. Here in the capitol, the people are as blind as bats to the oppression of the lives they lead. However, like I said, this is the capitol. And you can't go around saying things like that.

"From district one!" Caesar calls, whilst I pick up my glass of champagne, tucking my feet up on the plush white couch. The screen shifts to a picture of the first two tributes, both tall, both athletic, and both displaying the classic beauty so prevalent to District 1.

"Cedric Diggory!" He calls. The boy they show is tall, pale, and he's clearly not bothered to do anything to his hair. It's brown and thick and all over the place, but he's handsome. The sponsors will jump at the chance.

"Alice Kingsley!" It's the girt they show from District 1. She is also incredibly beautiful, long blonde hair in ringlets down her back, creamy pale skin and deep blue eyes. Tall and willowy, with a vacant expression; she doesn't look like much. However, I've watched enough of the Games to know that the acts and the pretences start from the minute they call your name.

Jasmine plods in and I set my champagne down to pull her up onto my lap. She purrs contentedly and rubs her head against my leg as I stroke her.

"Welcome to our tributes from District 2!" Caesar calls, and the screen changes behind him. The District Two tributes are always the ones you want to watch out for. They get the most sponsors and the most glorifications on the part of the Capitol. I remember my parents, when I was still living with them, betting on a pair from District Two. We won quite a large sum of money from that, but it disappeared quickly. Affluence is easy to come by in the Capitol.

"John Smith!" Caesar introduces. The seventeen year old is incredibly tall, wearing a blue pinstripe suit. He grins, and I see the perfectly straight, intensely white teeth and charming attitude. He'll have no problem whatsoever acquiring sponsors. I can tell just from looking at him that he'll be a fast runner, and who knows what muscles are hiding underneath that suit.

"Clara Oswald!" Caesar gestures to the screen gain, which shifts, displaying another sixteen year old. She's grinning, brown eyes wide, her chestnut hair bouncy in glossy waves around her shoulders. She's practically jumping with enthusiasm. It's clear from the off that she's used to excitement. She is going to be another sponsor magnet.

Time to see what braniacs District three presents.

"Sherlock Holmes!" He introduces and the screen shows up close the sixteen year old. He's tall, with porcelain skin and the most prominent cheekbones I've ever seen. Brown curly hair and a piercing stare. I don't like to tear my eyes off the screen. It feels as though he is watching me, and reading my very thoughts. He stands tall, with conviction and purpose. District 3 is not usually the prime sponsor target, but looking at Sherlock Holmes, I can tell it's going to be a little different this year.

"Molly Hooper!" Is the next name called. She's a mousy looking fifteen year old, and from the way she keeps glancing nervously at Sherlock, it's clear she likes him. She has long, light brown hair, minimal glasses, and a hopeful look in her eyes. She hasn't given up. It might be that hopeful quality alone that gets her the gifts she will need to survive in the arena. Some sponsors like to walk on the wild side and betting on a mousy little girl from District 3 might give them that anticipation.

Uncertainty makes the game more interesting.

Who knows? I might even bet this year.

* * *

PLEASE REVIEW/FOLLOW/FAVOURITE :) It means a lot. You're free to private message me, and I'd love suggestions about who to put as the next tributes :) Seriously though, tell me what tributes from OTHER FANDOMS you'd like to see, and what district from. Also any shippings. When I get all the tributes, I'll get you to vote on who you want as Victor :)

THANK YOU VERY VERY VERY MUCH FOR READING! :D


	2. Reaping D4-D9

**CHAPTER TWO**

"From District Four…" Caesar waves his arm towards the screen which shifts again. The two stood there are both tall and typical careers.

"Percy Jackson!" Calls Caesar, pointing to the boy. He looks around 15, with dark brown hair and piercing green eyes. He's well built, and I can imagine him being an excellent swimmer. He's smiling, and from the way he carries himself I can tell he isn't going to have any problems with joining the career pack. It's usually made up of districts 1, 2 and 4, with some occasional exceptions. But 4 can be flexible. They're often the first to leave or turn on the rest of the career pack, and they make alliances with other districts too.

"Annabeth Chase!" Is the girl from District 4. She's very pretty; with medium length blonde hair and pale blue eyes. She's not smiling, like Percy is, but she's wearing the most determined expression I've ever seen. There's an aura about her that simply tells me, and I'm sure everyone else to _back off._ I like her already; from the looks of things she's got spirit, and I haven't even learned anything about her yet.

No more careers left. Most sponsors turn of their TV's at this point so they can be the first to make the bets, but there are others, the risk-takers, who stick around right until the end. I'm not usually a big fan of the games. I'm not opposed, but I'm not particularly interested. However, much to my surprise, I find myself staying where I am, not touching the remote. Jasmine purrs again and I stroke her sleek black fur distractedly, as the tributes from five appear on the screen.

"Ron Weasley and Amelia Pond!" Caesar introduces. They're both ginger, although whilst the boy is looking absolutely terrified, the girl looks like she's been given the best birthday present ever. I'd guess they're both about sixteen, and honestly, they could be twins. The girl, Amelia Pond, is looking around with interest, eyes bright with excitement. Ron Weasley is shaking slightly, but there's something about him. He seems like the loyal type, and the type who'd risk it all for someone he loved. Although, from the distance he and Amelia are stood apart, I don't think there's any kind of bond there. District partners, nothing more, nothing less.

My phone rings and I pick it up, pressing answer.

"Tyler residence." I say, straight off.

"Rose!" Someone shouts from the other end of the line. I have to hold the phone away from my ear for a moment as Mickey shouts my name.

"What is it?" I ask, slightly irritated. I'm missing the pair from District 6.

"Are you gonna bet this year?" He asks me, and I can hear voices in the background.

"Maybe. I take it you're already down there?" I respond, referring to the rooms where the Capitol citizens sign up as sponsors.

"Yeah. I'm betting on that guy from 2." He replies, sounding pleased with himself.

"That John Smith guy? Good choice, but you don't even know what he'll be like in training." I reply, turning my attention back to Jasmine who's stretching.

"Yeah well I'm walking on the wild side. Bye, love ya." He hangs up. I sigh and focus back on the TV. Micky always bets too soon for his own good.

"Our tributes from District 7!" Announces Caesar, and the screen flickers to the couple from seven.

"Hook Captain!" Is the boy. He's handsome. Insanely so. He has short, uncombed brown hair, dark eyes, well-built and heavily muscled. District 7 may not be a career district, but most of the tributes they put forth are woodmen and have at least a bit of muscle. They have their fair share of victors, although it doesn't really compare to the career districts.

"Clarisse la Rue." Caesar introduces, pointing to the girl. She is also well built, muscled and tall. She boasts long, spiky brown hair pulled back into a tight ponytail and sharp eyes constantly darting everywhere. She already scares me and I don't even know her.

I'm surprisingly interested in these games. Usually I barely pay attention, but something about this one has caught my interest. That's when I decide that I'm going to bet. There's something different this time, and I'm going to watch and I'm going to bet. However, unlike Mickey, I'm going to wait until I know what they can do.

The district eight tributes are shown, but I can't say there's anything remarkable about them, other than the fact that they're siblings. I feel bad for the tributes that are reaped along with their sibling; because I've seen the game makers drive them to kill each other upon occasion. It's frowned on to kill your district partner, but it's even worse to kill your sibling.

"Our tributes from District 9!" Caesar calls, gesturing to the ever changing screen.

"John Watson!" He introduces and I tilt my head in interest as I try to figure him out. He's stocky, with sandy blonde hair and he holds a cane, keeping his weight on his left leg. I wonder if they'll allow him that cane in the arena, because I'm pretty sure it counts as a weapon. He looks, if anything, a little uncomfortable. Not scared, just mildly annoyed. If I had to guess I'd say he was 17, but I'm not sure. He is muscled though, and I suspect it's from running about the hot dusty fields of District 9 all day. The screen changes and focuses on the girl.

"Guinevere Pendragon!" Caesar gestures to the girl. She's pretty, with dark skin and curly black hair. She looks nervous, but like John, she doesn't look scared. I find myself admiring her, simply for not being intimidated. It's not often that the tributes from the outer districts are relaxed, or at the very least not scared. I find myself admiring the courage of the two tributes from 9 who are almost certain to lose.

* * *

THANK YOU FOR READING :D If you enjoyed it I'd love it it if you could give a review, or favourite/follow the story (IT MEANS A LOT). At this point, I'm still accepting tribute ideas and I'm open to basically all fandoms, so PM/review me characters you want to see appear. :)

THANK YOU :D :D :D :D :D

Lucy xxx


	3. Reaping D10

**CHAPTER THREE**

I had to rush to the bathroom because I didn't want to miss the rest of the tributes. I'm already forgoing the tributes from 6 and if I'm going to bet this year I need to know who's who. I'm just in time to throw myself back onto the sofa and stare intently at the tributes from District 10.

"Jack Harkness!" Introduces Caesar, pointing to the boy. He's tall and burly, broad shoulders, a wicked grin and short brown hair. I can't figure out why he's grinning. I usually forgive the careers for their elation at volunteering, but he was reaped. I don't know why he'd be happy about this. It occurs to me that he's probably one of the laugh-in-the-face of danger types. I like that type of person; they make the games more interesting.

"Tally Youngblood!" Is the girl. She has slightly frizzy ginger hair, which I suppose looks better on a less troubling day, and emerald green eyes. She has her hands in the pockets of her jacket, and if I had to read her facial expression, I might even say she looked bored. Bored with the bleak surroundings, as if she expected better from the district, and bored by the reaping, as if she was expecting something more exciting. I can't decide whether or not I like her yet. The bored expression speaks of a slight arrogance to me, but to be honest, I never know what to expect with the tributes. For all I know that arrogance is verging on modesty.

Between the tributes from District 10 and District 11, Caesar Flickerman gets a message from someone behind the camera who I can't see.

"Well, ladies and gentlemen," He greets, flashing us all a winning smile. "It seems like we have a few early sponsors, already! Remember folks, keep the money smart! Just wait until you see this batch of tributes in training!" He signs off and the screen shifts again to the tributes of District 11. I lean forwards expectantly in my seat. It seems a little unfair to me that some people are simply ignoring the tributes from the outer districts. They didn't even give them a look before they bet all their money on the career brutes from 1, 2 and 4.

* * *

Hey everyone, and thanks for reading :) It was quite a bit shorter this time (I need to write more per one...) because I've had quite a few requests over review and PM about which characters people want and I though I should try for a few more before I do the next few tributes :D ALSO Please follow/favourite the story if you enjoyed it because it means a huge amount to me :) If you have character from any fandom you want me to use just review/PM them to me and I'll do my best to add them in :)

Once again, THANK YOU FOR READING! :D :D :D

Lucy xxx


	4. Reaping D11-D12

CHAPTER 4

I've written them all down in my notebook now; each and every tribute. I just have to wait from the District 11 tributes now, something I'm looking forward to. Say what you like about the outlying Districts, they have spirit despite it all. District 11 work with plants too, so they're usually more at home in most areas, something the tributes from the concrete paved District 1 will never be. It's just unfortunate that they don't train.

"Welcome to our tributes from District 11!" Caesar Flickerman and the ever changing screen behind him shifts.

"Luffy Monkey!" He announces. The boy is lanky, with olive skin and black hair. He's grinning, another feature I find odd. The outer Districts seem awfully… chipper this year. Not a bad thing, but certainly unusual. He's wearing a straw hat and a red waistcoat, which seem to me like farmer clothes. He hasn't dressed up for the reaping, almost as if he'd forgotten about it, and yet he's grinning as if it's all fine. He's doing well, because I'm intrigued and that's what sponsors like.

"The girl from District 11… Dekka Talent!" Announces Caesar. The girl has dark skin, hair and eyes. She's well built, muscled, silent and unsmiling. She might not intrigue me as much as Luffy does, but she's scary and she's strong and she's silent. In other words: She's a sponsor magnet.

I pour another glass of champagne and jot their names down in my little notebook.

"The District 12 tributes!" Caesar calls and the screen makes its penultimate shift.

"James Moriarty!"

He scares me. That's all I can say. He's smiling fairly sweetly at the camera and its sending shivers down my back. Because under the sweet surface I can see the threat. The malicious spider underneath it all, waiting to strike. The smile doesn't reach his dark eyes and it scares the hell out of me. Dark hair and eyes, with pale skin. He reminds me a little of the Holmes boy from District 3. Only evil. I can't tear my eyes away from him, so the camera does it for me. It's the girls turn.

"Teresa Runner!" Caesar cries and the girl is shown and my breath is taken away. She's beautiful. Creamy pale skin, like the boy, curly black hair and electric blue eyes. She stands taller than the boy, although they both look about 16, and she does look fairly well muscled. I like her. She, like so many of the others, looks like she has spirit. If I'm going to sponsor someone this year it's going to be a hell of a job picking who.

One thing's for certain though, these games are going to be… Unforgettable.

* * *

THANK YOU FOR READING! :D Please review/PM me with ideas for the mentors/other people like the stylists who are necessary to the games :) I'm very excited about all this, so please... I dunno... Tell your friends? :) Anyhoo, thank you for reading and i read every single review (not that i get many but...) :)

xxx


	5. Who To Choose?

**CHAPTER 5**

I dial Mickey's number and he picks up on the third ring.

"Hey Rose."

"Yeah, hi. I'm gonna bet this year…" I trail off.

"Seriously? _You_? Wow, I've finally managed to get you interested." I can almost hear his grin through the phone. I roll my eyes and flip through my notebook again.

"Yes me, Mickey. I need advice. How much to bet, but more importantly, who to bet on." I tell him, my eyes scanning the list. I don't know the tributes from 6 and 8, which I'm counting as a good thing at the moment, because I'm already stuck for choice. Mickey laughs.

"Rose, it's your first time. Just bet on the careers; they always win." He tells me.

"Mickey, did you _see_ the boy from 12? He's terrifying. I don't even know why. And the outer Districts… they were just… spirited. You know what they're like usually, and that wasn't true this time. Some of them looked _excited_." I tell him, almost in a whisper.

"Doesn't matter. They aren't strong enough." He retorts. I sit back on the sofa, annoyed.

"Oh yeah? You don't know that. You bet on that guy from 2 before you even know what he got in training. You don't know them. You don't know any of them." I snap, scowling. I can hear him sigh on the other end of the line.

"Rose, if that's the way you feel, see what they get in training. Watch the parade or the interviews or something and then pick. Even wait for the games, if you want." I can picture him at his house, scowling and leaning against the kitchen counter.

"Fine. See you." And I hang up. Setting the phone down on the coffee table, I sigh. All me and Mickey ever seem to do is fight all the time. I don't know what it is, but it doesn't seem to stop. I honestly think I just need more in a relationship. Someone who I can have adventures with or something. I don't want to have dates where we just go to the park or the cinema. I want to go and explore with someone. Someone I can have a laugh with. To put it bluntly, I need someone more exciting than Mickey.

The thing is, now I have to wait at least a day before the parade shows. Maybe I should see it live… If I watch it on TV I'll see them properly, but I'd like to see it live just the once. Thinking about it, I'll go. It'll be interesting, and I'll get to see the President in the flesh (something I've only done once before, as a little girl).

I call up the ticket office and order a single seat. Much as Mickey can be good company, he'll be bias and a little annoying. I want to at least value them equally. And just like that, I have a reservation in the front row, my Capitol affluence paying off. Turning off the TV, I slip my feet into their slippers and trudge upstairs to my room, Jasmine plodding along behind me. I'm surprised to think about how excited I am for these games when usually I couldn't care less. I'll think more about betting in the morning.

* * *

Thank you for reading! :D Please review/follow/favourite or PM me if there are any other characters (preferable not from THG) you'd like to see in the chapters to come :) Sorry they're ll so short (they look much bigger in a word doc). :)

Lucy xxx


	6. Anticipation

**CHAPTER 6**

The next day I drag myself out of bed unusually early and plod downstairs. Jasmine is still asleep, her little paws batting some imaginary mouse or something. I make breakfast for myself and stare aimlessly at the blank white wall for a while. I swear to god, most of my spare time is like this. Staring at that white wall. I wish someone was on the other side… Someone I could talk to. The phone ringing is the only thing that shakes me out of my daydream and makes me think about the present. Right. The phone. Picking it up, I press the answer button.

"Tyler residence." I answer straight off.

"Uh… Hey. This is me at the… Jones residence." Martha replies, unsure.

"Oh. Hey." I grin.

"So Mickey said you were going to bet this year…" she trails off. I shrug and them realise she can't see me.

"Well yeah… Except I don't know who to bet on." I reply, examining a speck of dirt on the kitchen counter.

"Well you're in luck." She tells me. I wonder why she's up this early… "They managed to get faster trains this year and the parade is tonight!" She announces, proudly. My face breaks out into a grin.

"Fantastic."

"Do you want me to come and watch it with you?" She asks. Oh dear… Now I feel guilty.

"Uh… I'm really sorry, but I already booked a ticket at the parade." I mumble. There's a minute pause before she answers ad I feel even worse.

"No, that's ok." She replies, and I can hear the disappointment in her voice.

"Sorry." I apologise again.

"It's ok. I'll see you tomorrow!" She replies, sounding slightly happier, although I still feel awful about it.

"Bye." I hang up.

But it's still good news. The parade is this evening, not in a few days and the tributes have arrived sooner than expected. If I'm sponsoring one of them, tonight is the first proper look at them I'll get. Quietly, I pad upstairs in my slippers and enter my room. It's cold and I'm so tempted just to crawl back into my unmade bed, surrounding myself in the down blankets. Instead I open the door to my en suite and shower, washing out the night's tangles and struggles. The hot water helps me to relax. I've been feeling on edge recently, and I don't know why. Turning off the hot water, I step out and wrap my hair and body up in towels, then brush my teeth. Standard morning routine.

Now to dress. I take off the towels and let the fans dry my body and the electric current sort my hair out. Then I make my way to the large walk in wardrobe, trying to pick something out for tonight. I'll change into that later, so I opt for wearing joggers and a t-shirt around the house until then. I find a gown that's to my fancy and lay it out on my bed. It's a good thing no one's around today. If they saw me wearing clothes as simple as these I'd be a laughing stock. Capitol citizens like myself, pride ourselves on our adventurous fashion choices and make-up. Even the men. Currently, I look like a District citizen and that doesn't go down to well.

I spend the rest of the day watching various rubbish on TV and playing with Jasmine. It's not been productive, but it's going to be a busy and exciting evening, so I don't care.

I jump up when I realise it's six o'clock and rush around in the kitchen, making myself a small, quick meal. Then I hurry upstairs to get ready. The dress I picked is black and long, fairly skin-tight, but not obscene. Kind of glittery, but not overwhelming. I don't like standing out too much in the crowds, and especially as this is my first time going to the parade.

It's time to go.

I grab my handbag, dropping my phone, keys and tribute notebook into it, and then leave, waving a little goodbye to Jasmine, who looks lazily up at me and bats a paw at the air. I close the door behind me and feel the wind on my face. The evening air is rich with the cloying scents of various flowers up and down the tiled street and I walk forward onto the pavement. There are taxis everywhere and I hail the nearest one, which stops outside my house. I clamber inside and smile at the cabbie.

"Parade streets, please." I request. He nods, and the taxi starts up. He's an avox. No Capitol citizen would be willing to take a job as a cabbie when they could be living it up in the rich offices of the town. I watch the world outside as it flies by, not knowing what this evening will bring.

The taxi stops and I pay the driver, know he won't get any of it. All the Avoxes are paid in is food and meagre bed for the night. I can't help feel sorry for him.

There are crowds all up and down the parade streets. There's still about half an hour until it starts and I have to find my seat first. It takes me no less than 10 minutes and I sit down, looing round, excitedly. The crowds have almost all found their seats and I'm actually excited. The atmosphere is electric; the chatter of the crowd roaring in my ears, and my heart is beating fast with anticipation.

I'm fidgeting in my seat when the cannon booms and the stable doors open, further down the street and I sit up, long with most of the crowd. The chariots are rolling out and I can see them in the flesh; The tributes.

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Please review! :D Thank you so much for reading; It means a huge amount :D You can also PM me any other characters you wan to see in the various parts leading up to the games :)

Lucy xxx


	7. Chariots 1-4

**CHAPTER 7**

The first chariot rolls by and I stare at the first two tributes: Cedric Diggory, and Alice Kingsley. They're dressed as glittering jewels, Alice in a long sapphire gown and a large headdress, festooned with the actual gems. Cedric is a topaz, or amber, or something orange. He's wearing a kind of orange body suit, it's thick and looks a little like crocodile skin, but it looks fantastic on him. It accents his muscles and sets his skin alight in a warm orange glow. District 1 cuts gems for the Capitol, and I'm not surprised their stylists have gone for such a beautiful choice. The chariot they're in rolls steadily past me and I stand up and cheer with the rest of the crowd. This is incredible! I never really understood why so many people went to the parade, until now. The atmosphere in the crowd is incredible. Everyone is just excited to be here, and revelling in each other's joy.

It's the second chariot now. The tall District 2 boy, John Smith, and the littler girl with the bouncy brown hair, Clara Oswald. They're in a large black chariot, pulled by four stone grey horses. Their stylists have made the bold decision to cover them in some sort of glittering dust, like they're both showered in tiny particles of rock. Put that with the nice silver tunics they're wearing, and they look like statues. Of course… District 2 is Masonry. And peacekeepers, but that would be an awful parade costume. They're sparkling ever so slightly in the light and the people around me are screaming their name, except neither of them look around. Silent and deadly careers. Still as statues. Until I see John lean down slightly and whisper something to Clara, who smiles excitedly.

* * *

_I stare forwards, adjusting the hem of my little silver tunic. I don't like it. Silver has never been my colour, and the dusty stuff they threw over us tickles. I want to scratch at it, but John and the stylists told me not to. I like John, although his constant insistence that I call him 'The Doctor' is annoying. He's tall and he's athletic, but he's a career, not a doctor. I remember asking him the other day, 'Doctor who?' and he just laughed (god know why). District 1 is visible ahead of us and I can see the pair of them waving out at the crowd. I wish I could. But Bellatrix, my stylist, was very adamant that I should not acknowledge the crowd. We're meant to be statues, and statues don't move. He leans down towards me. _

_"Relax. You're doing fine." He whispers, and I smile slightly. He knows what to say when I need it, so I have to give him that at least. The chariot is a bumpy ride, and I'm starting to feel sick. I hope this is over soon. I much prefer traveling by car, or hovercraft. This is awful. I'm itching to look at the crowds as well, seeing as they're all calling my name, but I can't. The horses are allowed blinkers, they don't know where to turn, but for me it's like a huge itch. I love attention, and I'll be the first to admit it. That's part of the reason why I volunteered for these games. That and the whole honour thing, but I'm not particularly bothered. I'm doing this mainly for the excitement. I hate being bored. This is ideal. _

* * *

Time for District 3. I sit back down in my chair, but I'm still just as interested, and I lean forwards expectantly. Their chariot rolls out, another set of four grey horses, except that this time their chariot is so silver, it reflects the surroundings like a mirror. Sherlock Holmes, the boy, is stood tall and proud, holding one arm up in recognition of the crows. Molly Hooper is stood timidly next to him, waving shyly at the cheering audience. The pair of them are wearing black capes, although Sherlock's is considerably longer than Molly's. She wears a tunic, similar to those from district 2, but it is studded with electric lights, in little squares of different colours. Her hair has been curled and left bouncing round on her shoulders. Sherlock is wearing a silver shirt with electric light studded buttons (I'm shocked he manages to pull it off) and a pair of skinny lack trousers. Not unremarkable, but not the brightest of tributes.

District 3's gone by and now it's time for 4. Percy Jackson and Annabeth Chase are both extremely athletic looking, although other than that there's no resemblance. Percy has dark, spiky hair, and Annabeth has blonde curls. He's taller, and fitter, but from the way she looks out at the crowd I get the feeling she's watching us all, assessing the situation a lot more thoroughly than him. I yell their names out along with the crowd, my voice cracking slightly from the excitement. Annabeth looks over at me and I hold her gaze for little more than a second. I'm finding it hard to believe I never got excited about the games before. She's wearing a blue and green netted dress that separates into strands at the bottom, like sea weed. Percy is wearing a deep blue top that clings tight to his chest, and navy trousers. He's wearing this headdress with little points sticking out of it, each dividing into three, like lots of little tridents. He, like Sherlock and Molly, is wearing a cape, although his shimmers in the light like a fish skin. Classic District 4.

* * *

_Annabeth stood next to me is both a comfort and a cause for worry. I'm terrified for her. Not that I'd ever tell her that, because she'd just laugh and call me a sentimental old seaweed brain. Besides, she knows how to look after herself. I still worry. But the fact that she's here, one of my best friends… My best friend… it's amazing. She's always been there to help me and she always sees the most realistic side of things, which will be a huge help later on. Later on, when we're in the games. There can only be one winner, and I'm going into the arena, having to fight with my best friend. I don't want that. I want to win as much as I want her to win. I know that this is exactly _not_ how I should be preparing myself for these games, but I can't help it. How would you feel? Having to kill your best friend? Horrified doesn't even _begin_ to cover it. This is awful._

* * *

THANK YOU FOR READING! :D Please review with what you thought, and PM me any other characters you'd like to see :) If you already have and I haven't used them yet, DON'T WORRY. I will :) Follows and favourites men a huge deal 3 Thank you! :D

Lucy xxx


	8. Chariots 5-8

**CHAPTER 8**

The first four districts have gone by now, and I'm ecstatic. The excitement of the Capitol crowds around me has not gone. It has not dimmed. Every single person in the crowd is just happy to be here, basking in the brightly coloured floodlights and the wonderful sights of the tributes.

Now for the District 5 redheads. They emerge from the stables and my eyes widen. They glow, sot and gentle in a contrast to the floodlights above. Amelia Pond, the girl, is wearing a knee length dress, coloured soft yellow, but there's a soft glow to it. She's wearing a crown of lights, the same yellow colour as her dress. She's a light bulb, softly illuminating the stadium. Her fiery red hair is loose and wild behind her, which adds an edge to the sweetness. I like her, and I can't put my finger on why. The boy from 5, Ron Weasley, is wearing a black unitard thing, made of thick, bulky material, with a fiery red lightning bolt across the breast. The bolt's the same colour as his hair, and it works well to create a sense of electricity. I get the same feeling of loyalty from him as I did at the reaping. He has a secure gaze, and I know he'll be a valuable ally. Not the obvious victor type, but the games are different each year. The resemblance between him and Amelia strikes me again, and I could swear there's some sort of family connection there, although they make no move to acknowledge each other.

District 6 is coming. This interests me greatly, as I missed them (and district 8) at the reaping. Their chariot rolls out of the stable and I immediately notice that they're siblings. They have the same straight dark hair, the same blue eyes, which are so bright I can see them from my seat, and they're both immensely beautiful. I fumble around with my programme and find their names. Alec and Isabelle Lightwood. They're definitely siblings then: I was right. Isabelle is wearing a long grey dress with large black belt. The dress, upon closer inspection, has a distinctive tyre pattern. District 6 is transport, so that makes sense. The boy, Alec Lightwood, is wearing a kind of armoured vest thing, actually made out of tyre. He has arm guards (tyre) and a skirt sort of thing (made of tyre strips). I've seen similar costumes before in the ancient books. There was a type of soldier that used to wear similar dress… Romen, I think. Or Roman. Either way, that's who he looks like. And now I know who the District 6 tributes are.

District 7 now. It takes me a minute as I try to remember their names… Ah. Hook Captain is the boy. It's an odd name, but I've heard stranger. And… Clarisse La Rue. I watch them with interest and then my eyes widen in shock. Hook Captain, the boy… He's missing a hand. In its place, he has a long silver hook. Bloody hell, he won't be allowed that in the arena. He could take someone's head off with it, although I suspect that right now it's just for show. His eyes are dark and I feel ever so slightly threatened by him. Clarisse is glaring out at the sea of citizens that surround me. This is her angle I assume. Angry. She's wearing a huge dress, made of leaves stitched together, the colours setting perfectly against her brown hair. Hook's wearing a green shirt, brown cape, and black trousers. They're both wearing the same headdress: A crown made of twigs, almost like a birds nest. The costumes aren't the most spectacular I've ever seen, but they're good, and they're enough to send those chills down my spine as I see them in the flesh.

District 8's carriage pulls out of the stadium doors and I crane forwards to a look. Quickly, I glance down at the programme, finding their names. Sam temple and Hermione Granger. I only get a brief glimpse at them as they go by, but it's enough. Sam's tall and athletic, but whilst he's handsome he's wearing a deep seated frown, like he's trying to solve something way over his head. Hermione Granger is pretty, but in a far less exotic way than someone like Isabelle. She has light brown hair, boarding on frizzy, but it's been tames into perfection. Her dress is long, made of all different kinds of material, stitched carefully together. It looks less like patchwork, and more like a smooth rainbow of different fabrics. Sam's wearing a shirt made of the same combination of materials as Hermione, but he's wearing black trousers and a cape too. I can't help but try and remember if there are always so many capes in once precession. One thing's for sure though, now that the tributes have been seen wearing them, the views in the Capitol will barely be able to contain themselves. Every cape in the Capitol will be gone by the end of the week. By the end of the games however, only the victor's fashion choices will be accepted. No one likes a loser.

* * *

_I stare out at the crowds surrounding me, trying to think of a way out. It seems impossible. All I can seem to concentrate on is the fact that I'm going into the games, and that I'll be dead. Which is frustrating, because I know that much. If I could actually solve the problem, rather than just think desperately about it that would be great. As of yet, however, I haven't thought of anything. Hermione is waving to the crowds around us, and I can sense she's as uncomfortable with this as I am. Neither of us deals well with such enthusiastic and bloodthirsty attention as this. I wonder if the Capitol knows what they're doing. I suppose it's never really real to them: They never have to give up their children and they never have to enter the games. The most they see of us is through a screen. They don't know what it's like to be in that arena. Admittedly, I don't either. But within a week I'll know exactly what it feels like to be a tribute. Because that's what District children are really. We're not cared for. We're expected to fend for ourselves. The adults can't help._

_We are the sole pieces in the Capitol's games. _

* * *

THANKS FOR READING! :D Reviews mean a LOT to me, so I'd appreciate it if you could just give even a little one :) But because I know some of you are unfamiliar with the characters in this, I thought I'd share with you the stories that they came from, so you could get some sort of idea of what they're like :)

District 1

Male: Cedric Diggory = Harry Potter

Female: Alice Kingsley = Alice in Wonderland (return to underland)

District 2

Male: John (Doctor) Smith = doctor Who (10)

Female: Clara Oswald = Doctor who (11)

District 3

Male: Sherlock Holmes = Sherlock

Female: Molly Hooper = Sherlock

District 4

Male: Percy Jackson = Pink foo foo bear goes to market

Female: Annabeth Chase = I was joking, they're both from the Percy Jackson series :)

District 5

Male: Ron Weasley = Harry Potter

Female: Amelia Pond = Doctor Who (11)

District 6

Male: Alec Lightwood = TMI (the Mortal Instruments series)

Female: Isabelle Lightwood = TMI

District 7

Male: Hook Captain = Once upon a time

Female: Clarisse la Rue = Percy Jackson

District 8

Male: Sam Temple = GONE

Female: Hermione Granger = Harry Potter

District 9

Male: John Watson = Sherlock

Female: Guinevere Pendragon = Merlin

District 10

Male: Jack Harkness = Doctor Who (9-10) and Torchwood

Female: Tally Youngblood = Uglies

District 11

Male: Luffy Monkey = Once Piece (anime)

Female: Dekka Talent = GONE

District 12

Male: James Moriarty = Sherlock

Female: Teresa Runner = Maze Runner

Don't be put off if you don't already know the characters, even I don't fully know some of them, so just read on anyway :)

Lucy xxx


	9. Chariots 9-12

**Chapter 9**

Four chariots left. Here on out are the official 'outer Districts,' the ones I was surprised to see smiling (or at the very least, looking relatively calm) at the reapings. It just doesn't happen. The outer districts are the scared ones, the ones with the least victors, the ones that simply don't win. This is partially because they rarely get sponsors, but I have to admit, that's a little down to them too. Only… This year, I can't help feel like the balance has shifted. They outer Districts are the ones to watch out for. The careers arrogance will be the thing that kills them. The midpart districts will be surprising. Something has changed. The tables have turned.

There's a cheer and I look down the street to see the district 9 chariot, making its way down the streets. Inside are John Watson and Guinevere Pendragon. John looks steadfast, stood solidly on both feet, despite his cane. He's frowns around at the arena, as if he can't quite believe he's here, as if he's trying to find the way out. Guinevere is looking around with what seems like mild interest. Neither looks particularly bothered by the situation, almost as if the crowds were a fly they were considering batting away. Their stylists have nicely captured the essence of District 9: Grain. Guinevere is wearing a long golden gown. The top appears to be a band of beige/gold material, and the skirts of the dress, starting just below her ribs, is long stalks of wheat, and long grass woven cleverly together. She's wearing a tiara made of blades of old grass woven together, and it sets nicely against her dark skin and hair. John is wearing some sort of one-piece thing, made of woven wheat, which covers all the vitals, but shows off his muscles to the crowd. I was right when I said he was well-built at the reaping. He'll be one to watch out for.

Their chariot rolls past and I shift my gaze down the streets, searching for the next carriage. It pushes out of the stable doors and begins its steady procession down the street. It's the couple from District 10, Jack Harkness and Tally Youngblood. Jack is waving to the crowds and smiling winningly, whilst tally is just gazing around, staring at as many individual faces as she can. I like them both, simply because I don't know all that much about them and it intrigues me. I don't doubt I'm the only one, because the crowds around me have erupted into cheers, and not the usual kind. When the outer districts go by, there's cheering, but it's half hearted. After having seen the careers, the capitol viewers usually start to lose interest, and only cheer out of the excitement of being there. It's different right now. I have to say that there's nothing particularly majestically crafted or spectacular. They're both wearing cow herder clothes; dungarees and various different animal skins, topped off with the wide brimmed brown hate they always wear. It's no different from last year costume-wise. But I think for the first time, the Capitol is starting to realise that it's the person wearing the clothes that matters. The character beneath. Tally, with her pretty green eyes and wild ginger hair, looks like the kind of girl who'd stick it out, no matter what. She'd do whatever it took to win, or break the rules. Then there's Jack, with his charming looks and charismatic smile, the complete career type, who just happened to be born into the wrong district. The Capitol wants more from them than they're getting. They want to see the lives these two lead. They want the tributes from district 10 to pour their hearts out to them, and I realise that District 10 knows exactly what it's doing. They're making the capitol a piece in their very own game.

But now the would-be Gamemakers have gone, leaving the excited crowds with only two districts left. 11 and 12. The very epitome of poverty and hunger.

11's chariot rolls out. Luffy and Dekka are inside it, both staring around at the crowd. I'm beginning to recognise Luffy is the type that doesn't get upset, no matter what. He just seems generally cheerful, grinning madly and waving at the audience, who goes mad for him. Dekka, however, is silent. She stands with her arms crossed, feet planted solidly on the chariot floor, glaring straight ahead, adamantly refusing to acknowledge the capitol. I know this technique. It only works when you have the physical advantage though. A girl like Dekka, with her muscles and build and stare, can get away with that strategy. She's a rock. A dependable, fearsome rock that you don't want to come across under any circumstances. It's great and it works for her. However, if someone like Ron Weasley had tried it, it would be at best a failure. Not to put him down, because I was thoroughly impressed, but sometimes different strategy's work better for different people. Luffy has gone for Mr Optimistic. He's wearing that same straw hat again, and the red waistcoat, items I doubt I'll ever see him without. He occasionally raises the hat to the audience, grins and winks. He's playing the crowd well, and I frown as I watch him. Why is he so cheerful? He must know that he's going to his death. Unless that's why he's grinning: because he knows he's not. For all I know he's a prolific athlete, and he knows how to fend for himself. But he certainly hasn't let onto anything if he is. This has much the same effect on the capitol as it did with the District 10 tributes. The capitol wants more. More information about him, and if he's clever, he'll be reluctant to part with it. Then, just like that, their chariot has passed by. One district left. The poorest. The most poverty-stricken. 12.

The stable doors open once again and I watch as the last chariot rolls out. Inside the chariot is Teresa runner… And James Moriarty. I try not to watch him as it goes past, because if I'm honest, he terrifies me, and for reasons I cannot fathom. Teresa is smiling at the crowd, waving proudly, but it's her dress that takes me by surprise. Instead of the coal miner's outfit, instead of the coal-coated bodies, she's wearing a huge ball gown. It's beautiful, just like her, and I wonder how hard a team of seamstresses must have worked to make it. The dress is a burnt orange at the top, a fiery red that contrasts against her blue eyes and black hair. The dress carried onto her waist, tight fitting, and gradually growing darker. Imagine a burning coal, hottest at the top. The first part of the dress stops there, and then it flows out from her waist. There must be some sort of crinoline under there, because it spans out magnificently. The burnt orange colour at the top gradually becomes darker as the dress continues down, and the hem is the darkest black you can imagine. He arms have been left bare, in an alarming but delicate clash with the black of the dress and the night. She looks beautiful, and her stylist has done a good job. The capitol hates wasting beauty. To see her disfigured in the arena will be hard for them, and so they'll part with their money. It occurs to me suddenly that I am referring to the capitol as 'they.' I'm subconsciously distancing myself from them, and I can't figure out why. I shake myself and look back at the chariot. And I see him. James Moriarty, the pale, scary, sadistic one. I don't know anything about him yet, but that smile… His smile is disturbing. It's almost sweet, but I can see the threat underneath. It's like watching a crocodile. Smiling sweetly, waiting for you to get too close. And by the time you realise he's a treat, you're dead. He's wearing a suit. Black and simple. He doesn't need anything else.

And then they've gone. Only one part of the parade left. Our revered President Saruman must make his speech. I watch; sitting forwards in my chair, as he slowly takes to the podium. His beard has been neatly plaited and decorated with silver rings as usual, and his eyes are as cold and grey as ever. It's the first time I've seen him in the flesh.

"Welcome, tributes." He calls, his voice low and menacing as always. It sends a chill down my spine. "Welcome to this year's games." He spreads his arms wide, gesturing to wither the crowds, or the capitol as a whole. "We, as a people, as the _superior_ people of Panem, as _your Capitol_, salute your bravery… And your sacrifice." He calls, and the whole of Panem is quiet in that moment. "We salute, your struggles, and we salute your victory. We salute your humanity." He continues. His voice is so powerful; I don't doubt he could shout across the whole of the Capitol without need of a microphone.

"Welcome tributes. Welcome to this year's Hunger Games." He finishes, and steps down from the pedestal.

* * *

THANK YOU FOR READING! :D I'm sorry for no character POV's this time. I did try, honestly, but none of them seemed to work/suit the characters, so I'll try again some other time :) Reviews, as always, appreciated (and when I say appreciated, I mean I literally fall of my chair with excitement for very one I get), as are follows and favourites. :)

NOTE: The 'A' key on my keyboard is really bad, and NOT AS RESPONSIVE AS THE REST OF THE BLOODY KEYS which is a pain, so please just take it as it comes :) Thanks for reading! :D

Lucy xxx


	10. Head Gamemakers that fail

**Chapter 10 (POV of Harley Quinn, the head Gamemaker) **

I frown at the screens laid out before me.

"That's not what I asked for." I snap at a new game maker. The screen in front of us displays the new arena, untested and ready for attention. The man turns around and stares at me, blue eyes wide.

"But-" He begins.

"No excuses." I snarl at him and jab at the screen. It zooms in to my touch. "This is the cornucopia, correct?" I ask him and he nods.

"Yes Ma'am."

"Why is it in a castle?" I ask him, leaning down, and giving him my most vicious stare. He blinks at me and swallows.

"B… Because that's what the president wanted." He blurted. I frown t him and stand up straight.

"What do you mean… What's your name?"

"Merlin, Ma'am." He tells me, regaining his control a little. "I mean that the president's PA approached me a few weeks ago and told me what the President wanted." I frown and click my tongue.

"I specifically told him that we were choosing a maze. What's he doing taking over my control?" I ask, annoyed. Merlin shrugs.

"I… I don't know." Merlin mumbles. I stare down at him.

"Rhetorical question, idiot." I roll my eyes.

"Sorry."

I stare at the screen.

"Move." I order Merlin and he clambers out of his seat in front of the screen. I place my fingers splayed out on the map and pull together, zooming out. I flick about the arena, noting the grounds and interior of the castle. It's huge. "Have the pods been assembled?" I ask him.

"Half of them." Merlin replies. "See here." He points to an area on the map and zooms in. There's a little glowing light where his finger is and he taps it. Another image flashes up, and I see an animated footage of what will happen if the pod is triggered. This one is cat like mutts. I observe the creatures carefully.

"Have the mutts been prepared?" I ask.

"There's still a few left to go. These Lynxes are one of them.

"Fantastic." I mutter, and scroll across the map. I'm incredibly annoyed. How dare the President take over my responsibility?! It's a week before the games begin, and I have to put up with this massive setback. I bet he planned this. Wanted his own arena. Because now it's far to late to change location. I'm going to have to work with the castle arena. Sighing heavily, I sit back in the chair. After all that time I spent drawing the maps of the maze, designing the mutts, it's all gone to waste.

I stand up.

"Continue work on this arena. Does it have a name?" I ask him and Merlin nods.

"Camelot."

"That's a stupid name." I remark, contemptuously.

"President's choice." Merlin shrugs. I push my blonde hair back with my gloved hand, exasperated.

"Find me when it's completed. I'm having nothing to do with this arena until the games begin." I decide, throwing my hands up. Then I march out of the command room.

I'm pissed off. And of course because it's the president, I can't say anything against or about it. I wish he'd given me a little control, or even some _notice_ that he was changing the plans for the arena. This has made my job so much harder I've seen the tributes, the audience are expecting a show, and if I don't know the arena, I can't guarantee them one. If a Head Gamemaker disappoints, a Head Gamemaker dies. I can't have that.

Taking a taxi back to my house I open the front door. I live alone. Sometimes. Occasionally friends stay over, but I'm busy as head Gamemaker. My duties, not that a lot of people realise it, are not solely limited to the games. I control the victory tour, and I control the promotion of the Capitol. Most propaganda decisions, if not all, are down to me.

As much as I respect the President, he's completely ripped me of authority. I hate him for that.

I run upstairs to my room, ignoring Lupin, my avox, as he bows his head to me. I don't care for Avoxes. They're about as important as pigeons as far as I'm concerned. As I busy about my room I catch sight of my reflection in the mirror and stop for a second. Chalk pale skin, which could either be down to my makeup or to the lack of sleep recently. Straight, glossy blonde hair, which is the only physical feature of me I've left alone when it comes to alteration. I'm wearing my usual clothes. A black and red cat suit, with the symbol of playing cards printed on. I stare at myself in the mirror, thing every inch of it. I scowl at myself and in a fit of anger a throw a hairbrush at the mirror. Most of the glass shatters and clatters to the ground in shards. I glare at the fragmented pieces of silver, strip of the cat suit and take a shower. I wash every inch of makeup from my body. I hate the Capitol right now. I hate everything that comes with it. Once I'm clean, I wrap a towel around my body and return to the mirror. Lupin has dutifully cleared up the glass on the ground… but there are still parts left of the mirror. I stare at my reflection, fissured and wrong. I look, for the first time, normal. Not perfect. I could be. I have enough money for a full body polish, but something always stopped me from getting one. I'm glad I never did. A freckle here, a spot there; all sorts of imperfections dot my skin.

I sigh and look away from the mirror. The Capitol demands perfection.

Head Gamemakers who disappoint, become Head Gamemakers that die.

* * *

CRAZY BATMAN/MERLIN/SELF-ESTEEM CHAPTER. Sorry for this random one. I kind of went off on a tangent, but still :) Please review/follow/favourite the story if you liked it :) THANK YOU FOR READING! :D

Lucy xxx

P.S: The Lupin in this is taken from The Roman Mysteries series, not Harry Potter :)


	11. Training Begins

**Chapter 11 (POV of Amelia Pond)**

We're all stood in a circle around Donna Noble, the woman who will be head of training before the games. She's a redhead, like me, and she walks with the same authority I try to adopt.

"Whilst you're here," she begins, looking around at us all. I'm trying not to catch the eyes of the other tributes. I'm not here to make friends. "You will try your hardest to learn the skills most vital in the arena: Offensive, defensive and preservative. I am here to train you: make you worthy of the games." She gestures around to the different stations. "I'd imagine most of you will immediately go towards the weapon stations, but I advise against it. Any idiot can use a sword, but how many of you can tie effective snares and traps? You'll need to learn if you want food." She looks around at us all and murmurs something to herself. "There are four mandatory courses to take part in, and-"

"What if we refuse?" Askes the boy from 10, Jack Harkness, mischievously. Donna Noble raises an eyebrow a him.

"Do you think I'm bothered?" she asks him, rudely and the rest of us, including Jack, laugh. We're an oddly cheery bunch this year. I've watched the games before and I always imagined the training sessions to be full of frightened 12 year olds and brutish 18 year olds. Apparently not.

"Fighting with the other tributes is prohibited. You'll have all the time in the world for that in the arena, don't worry. There are staff on hand to teach you, or act as an opponent if you wish to try out a new skill." She claps her hands. "Let training begin."

I look around at the other tributes, formulating a plan. I will train with each one of them, trying to get an idea of what they're like. I might not be here to make friends, but an alliance would be useful. It would make sense to go in order of the districts so I sidle up to Alice and Cedric as they line up for the first mandatory course.

"Hey." I smile. Alice doesn't even turn to look at me. She's staring off into space, but Cedric looks over his shoulder and grins.

"Uh… Hey." He nods. I hold out my hand.

"Name's Amelia Pond. You can call me Amy." I smile at him. We shake hands and he frowns at me.

"Amy. That's a funny name." He remarks and I raise my eyebrow.

"No funnier than Cedric." I reply, slightly rudely. He laughs.

"Touché. District 5 right?" He asks me. I nod.

"Yep." I reply, fighting the urge to say: _I've got the power! _He smiles again at me and then turns to look at the station before us. Oh god. It's a net, leading up to a climbing wall, leading up to some sort of monkey bar thing, and leading up to a rope we descend down. In other words, it's a fancy climbing frame. A _difficult_ fancy climbing frame. Cedric is first up, and he does it all well, no wonder. The careers try to intimidate at training. I haven't been given any instructions on how to act in training, so I'm just going with how I normally act. Which is… Loud. Alice also completes the climbing frame in no time at all, and I'm regretting choosing the spot third in line because now I have to go. I walk towards it, mind set on completing it as fast as I can. I can feel the other tribute's eyes on me, keenly watching for mistakes. Except possibly Ron. He's my cousin, and we know each other well enough that we don't want to make fun of each other. There's no way I'll get him in the arena. I'm not so cold-hearted as to kill my own family. I grab onto the net and pull myself up it. It's on a sort of diagonal slant upwards, which means I'm almost on my hands and knees. I manage to get past the net fairly quickly, and then came face to face with the climbing wall. Literally.

"Ow…" I mutter to myself as I rub my almost certainly bruised forehead. There are a few titters from behind me, until I turn around and shoot them such a penetrating glare that they stop. I turn and grabbed onto the first two holds, determinedly pulling myself up. I've never climbed before, but I get the concept. District 5 is the epitome of industrialisation, even more so than 1, 3, 6 or 8. There are no trees there, so I've had no opportunity to climb. Actually, that's not quite true. Lots of the street urchins in five are keen climbers, scouring the buildings and the rooftops, looking for food. I catch myself before I wish I was one of them. In any case, I've reached to top of the wall. Now to descend via the rope. I could abseil, like Alice and Cedric, but honestly, I think sliding down it will be easier. I drop quickly and hold the rope tightly, my hands burning. But I've reached the ground, and whilst it seemed like ages to me, it wasn't actually that long. No more than two minutes.

I smile smugly around the room and go to wait for the others, next to Alice and Cedric. Cedric is the only one acknowledging me. Alice is god knows where. It's not even as if she's ignoring me. She's just away in another world; away with the fairies.

I watch, interested as the boy from District 10, Jack Harkness, begins the course. He's strong. I can tell from the way he carries himself, and the way the cheeky grin on his face disappears. He's concentrating now, and he won't be distracted by any of us. He's faster than me, which makes me a little uncomfortable, as so far I'm the slowest. Although I've only been beaten by three other tributes.

"Amelia Pond right?" He asks me, as he completes the course and walks towards us. I nod, one corner of my mouth turning up.

"Yeah." I reply. "And you're Jack Harkness?"

"One and only." He grins, winking at me. I raise an eyebrow at him and fold my arms.

"We'll see." I reply. He laughs.

"What's your accent? Your district partner doesn't sound like that." He remarks. I sigh. I've been asked about my accent before. It's not the norm, but there are several families in District 5 with the same brogue as me.

"I have no idea. It's from the ancient lands; before Panem. I don't know what it's called, but I'm not the only one who talks like this." I tell him. He tilts his head.

"You're interesting, Amelia Pond."

"Amy, please."

He grins at me. I wonder if I've found a potential ally. I look around at the other tributes and realise I've missed Luffy completing the course. This annoys me. He's intriguing and I want to know why he's so happy. If I'd been paying attention I might have seen what he could do: get an idea about my enemies. But no. I'm having a mildly flirty conversation with another tribute. Great.

Hermione Granger is the next to go. District 8 is all about fabric, and I don't imagine she's particularly athletic. Although, as I watch her, I see her eyes scanning the course. She may not be athletic, but she knows what she's doing. Each step is calculated and recalculated, ensuring she makes it over the course in a sufficiently good time.

Every tribute seems to have some sort of skill. If they're not athletic they're intelligent, and vice versa. Some are confident, some are loyal, some re secretive, some are downright terrifying. It's leaving me wondering what my particular skill is.

What will be my advantage in the games?

* * *

THANK YOU FOR READING! :D Sorry it's been a while, but I was away this weekend :) Hope you're all OK :D Please leave a review! It means a lot to me if you review this, and favourites/follows are fantastic and I will love you for it :D

THANK YOU AND PLEASE REVIEW!:D

Lucy XXX


	12. The Terror of Training

**Chapter 12 (POV of Amelia Pond) **

It's time for the second mandatory training course, and just looking at it makes me want to throw up. OK, that's an exaggeration, but I can't do it at any rate.

It's a running track.

Donna Noble steps in front of us and gestures around the track.

"This is a race. The object is, obviously, to come first. Except, it isn't going to be as easy as it appears. Around the course, there are 'mines.' You step on one, and you have to immediately leave the race. This is not a question of speed, or strength. This is here to test your skills of _observation_."

"I'm not doing this." Says Sherlock Holmes, the boy from 3, his voice seemingly drained of emotion. Donna Noble raises and eyebrow at him.

"And why's that?"

"You're testing our skills of observation, correct? You want to know what we can see, and how we are able to recognise it. You want to test us." Sherlock states. Donna cocks her head at him. "The problem is… This training is meant to help us: To _prepare_ us." Sherlock says, incredibly fast. I watch him carefully, as does everyone else. Molly is smiling slightly. She must have seen him do this before. "But I can see from looking around this room, from looking at the stations, the instructors and even _you_… I can see that you're just gathering information. You're not helping us by putting us on this course. You're seeing what we can recognise so you can disguise it." Sherlock smiles slightly. He's figured that out. I hadn't even considered that. Donna laughs.

"You still have to do the course mate." She points out. Sherlock pulls back. He stares at her for a moment before deciding on something.

"Of course." He nods, but there's an icy glint in his eye. I smile at him and turn to face the course. I have no idea how to look for mines, but I bet Sherlock does. He's probably seen all of them already.

"Line up!" Donna calls and we begrudgingly set ourselves along the large starting line, It's a wide race track, and runs around the edge of the training room. I don't want to do this. Not only can I not see anything at all, but I can't run. Sherlock is stood back, his hands in his pockets, smiling slightly. He knows something about the course that we don't. Molly is staying close to him and I think she's trying to figure out for herself where the mines are. She's frowning.

I look along the line of tributes and most of them seem to be a little worried. How we do here is incredibly important. The way we react to this sets a precedent, and if I fail, the careers will mark me out as a weakling before the games have even begun. I don't need that.

"On your marks… Get set…" Donna begins, holding a starter gun up. "GO!" She fires a shot. I start quickly, but then immediately slow as I remember the mines. I need to look out for them, or I'm in trouble. But as I watch, Sherlock and Molly are sprinting around the course, not really looking.

Then it clicks.

There aren't any mines.

I bolt off after Sherlock and Molly as fast as I can, and whilst I have a lead, the other tributes must be catching onto what I've just figured out. But I have a lead, and that's what counts.

I can't begin to describe to you how much I hate running. I do it only when I have to: for instance if I'm late for school. I'm not a good runner. I'm not fast, and I don't have the stamina for long distance running. Although I have to admit I'm doing ok. Maybe I'm better at running than I thought…

I'm so close to the finish now, and only the boy from 2 has over taken me. Almost there… So close now…

FINISHED. And I finished 4th no less. I grin and slow down quickly. The boy from 2 smiles at me cockily.

"Fast, but not quite fast enough." He remarks. I roll my eyes. He holds out his nhand for me to shake.

"The names John Smith. You can call me Doctor." He introduces. I shake his hand.

"My name's Amelia Pond. You can call me Amy. But why Doctor?" I ask, pulling my hand away. He shrugs.

"It's a personal thing. And it's nice to meet you. This is Clara." He nods to his district partner, who's just bounded up to us. She looks me up and down and finally says.

"You're faster than you look." She remarks. I laugh.

"I'll take that as a compliment; so thanks." I reply, smiling. We shake hands. So far this is going well. I've talked to four out of six careers, and I'm doing well when it comes to the training, so today hasn't been a flop. So far.

"What's your accent?" Clara asks. I was expecting more than one person to ask me that, so it's not particularly annoying.

"It's an old accent. A few people in District 5 have it." I explain, briefly. I'm tired, and I'm not really all that willing to talk about home.

"Alright! Well done everyone. I take it you realised there were no mines." Donna calls. I didn't really. If Sherlock hadn't known, then I would never have guessed. I wonder what the purpose of that was? Why weren't there any mines? I bet Sherlock knows, but he does scare me a bit, so I'm not going to ask.

My slight fear and awe of Sherlock is nothing compared to my absolute terror of the boy from twelve: James Moriarty. I don't know what it is. He walked the whole way on the course, and came last, but he did it with such assurance. He just… walked. With his hands in his pockets, as if he didn't care. Maybe he doesn't. We're all terrified of him. Even the careers avoid him like the plague. I glance his way and he smiles at me. That little sweet, malicious smile that sends shivers down my spine. It feels like he knows me. It's like he's staring right through my head, reading everything. To be fair, it feels the same with Sherlock, but there's something different here. There's no threat accompanying Sherlock's gaze. Moriarty just reeks of danger. Like… I dunno… A spider. Just waiting, waiting, waiting, until someone gets too close.

I look away and shake my head slightly, clearing all thoughts of James Moriarty and his secrets from my head. I can't afford to get distracted right now. Especially not because of him.

I have to focus on the Games, and nothing else. I don't need any distractions.

* * *

THANKS FOR READING! :D PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW WITH IDEAS AND WHAT YOU THOUGHT! :D It would mean a lot if you followed this story, or Favorited it, because i will LOVE LOVE LOVE you forever if you do :)

Lucy xxx


	13. The Alliances Begin

**Chapter 13 (POV of Amelia Pond) **

It's lunchtime. Ordinarily, it's fun. Ordinarily I would enjoy this, because A) Food, and B) Companionship. But today it's different. Today I choose to sit only with Ron, because I don't trust anyone else.

"Ron…"

"Yeah?" He asks me, his mouth stuffed full of chicken. I smile.

"We haven't talked about alliances." I tell him, my chin resting on my hand. Ron freezes.

"No." He mumbles. I sigh.

"Look… There's a good chance they don't know we're cousins. If they do, they'll make us kill each other. So…" I lift my hands dismissively, waiting for him to respond. He swallows and sits back in his chair.

"I don't know." He shrugs. I sigh. "Well… We could ally, but I don't think it would do either of us a favour. I'm not in any hurry to watch you die." He tells me, leaning forwards. I nod slowly.

"And vice versa. But I don't know… I don't know what we're supposed to do. Alliances are good. We get more rest, more food… It's safer." I begin, my throat clogging slightly. "But I can't… I can't do that with you. It's too hard. It's not something I ever wanted to happen. The reaping… This... All of this… I don't think I can. We're _related, _ for Pete's sake. Alliances always end messily." I tell him. He stares at me for what feels like a lifetime.

"Okay." He smiles sadly. I want to cry. I don't cry often, but right now… It feels so final. Like we're already saying our last goodbyes. Families are close in District 5, and I've grown up with Ron. We're not best of friends. Never have been. But we're family, and I will not kill him. I can't cry either, not here, so I just smile sadly back at him.

"Okay."

* * *

"The next course is a test of your response to danger. Each one of you will walk along the track, and I cannot stress how much you must just walk, and threats will appear along the edges. These threats are not cardboard cutouts, or dummies. They are very very real. You will be armed, and if the situation becomes to serious, it will stop." Donna tells us, seriously. I swallow. Yeah. Great.

"Bring it on." The big from seven, Hook, grins. I glance him up and down, once again noticing the hook.

They can't allow him that in the arena can they? Surely not. It's a weapon. I look around the group again. The lightwood twins from 6; beautiful and composed as ever. John Watson from 9 is wearing a grim expression, but his hands are steady. He has a cane. I think he came second last to Moriarty in the race, and I wonder how he'll do in the arena with that leg. Percy and Annabeth from four are both looking over the course. Percy looks ready for action, and whilst Annabeth does too, she's surveying the room, looking for strategies. Luffy from 11 is grinning, as always. I don't understand him. How can he be smiling at a time like this? Big, brutish, but pretty, Dekka is stood solidly on the ground, arms folded, determined. I turn to find Ron watching the girl from 8... I think her names Hermione. Surely he isn't thinking about relationships? Bloody hell, the games are less than a week away. I turn back to Donna.

"Any volunteers to go first?" She asks us. Clara's hand shoots up, along with Clarisse from 7, Cedric from 1, Sam from 8 and Teresa from 12. I decide to stay back for now. Cedric is chosen, seeing as he's from one, and he walks forwards cockily.

"Watch and learn." He grins to the rest of us.

I roll my eyes, but I do watch. I need to know what's coming. It's not a wise decision to go first with something like this.

Cedric picks up a sword and begins to make his way down the course. I watch how his eyes dart. I watch how he holds himself, prepared, ready to strike. That's when the arrows start to fire and he ducks and rolls under them.

I blink. If that had been me, I would be dead by now. There's no way I could have dodged that. Cedric finishes the course, only having to occasionally duck out of the way of the arrows. I wonder if when I will walk down there it'll be like that. I glance over at Ron who smiles reassuringly at me. Turning back, I see Clara starting to march through it with a scythe. She has such a steady, determined look on her face. She's so determined and interested in her surroundings; sort of like me, but in a more dangerous way. She's just set off down it when the first bird flies at her. It's golden, and from the way its feathers glint in the electric lights, I can tell they're razor sharp. Percy, Annabeth and Clarisse seem to recognise them, because they all step back a little. Mutts, definitely.

Clara's quick though, and her scythe slices straight through them. I look to see Annabeth frowning. She's looking at Clara as if she's doing it all wrong. I'm wondering how too. Those feathers look like they're made of bronze. How on earth is that scythe slicing through them? But it doesn't matter anymore, because Clara's done it. She turns around to face us all and grins, curtseying cheekily to us. Annabeth clenches her fists.

"Who's next?" Donna asks, and Annabeth's hand shoots up. She walks forwards before Donna says she can go, grabbing a sword as she does so. I watch in interest as she begins to walk down the track, alert and on guard. Then, the tiled ground underneath her starts to shift. The panel her right foot is standing on gives way and disappears, off-balancing Annabeth. She proceeds forward as fast as she can, each tile she steps on giving way underneath her feet. But she's done it, and she shoots Clara a smug smile after she's done. Percy is grinning. John Smith, who I should really be calling the Doctor, flexes his hands, and steps out on to the course. He walks along it under constant attack from small fireballs, but he arrives at the end with only a slightly singed suit. Jack Harkness nudges me.

"Have you thought about alliances?" He asks me, quietly. Yes.

"Not really." I murmur back.

"Well, have a good think now. You've seen what the careers can do. We'd last longer in an alliance." He tells me. I look up at him, smiling slightly.

"True. Anybody else in mind?" I ask him. He looks over the group.

"Well… I thought about the Lightwoods from 6, but I don't think I could stand any more of Isabelle if I tried. Her brothers cute though. And I also thought about Sam and Hermione from 8, although we'd have to ask. If there is a '_we'_, of course." I ponder on this for a moment. He seems nice. He seems dependable. And like I already discussed with Ron, allies mean you get more food, more water, more rest and protection. I stare at him for a few seconds, and then come to a decision.

"Yeah. Allies." I hold out my hand and we shake. He grins winningly at me.

"Fabulous." He nods and then goes to try out the course. I frown at him, slightly mused. _Fabulous_ isn't the word I would have used, but…

I watch Jack as he battles his way through the course, ducking under and jumping over metal bars that shoot out of the ground and drop from the ceiling. He finishes and turns to grin at me. I smile back and then step forwards at the same time as Clarisse. She pushes me out of the way and grabs a spear, wielding it dangerously. I glare at the back of her head and step back a few spaces. She starts the walk and very quickly it becomes clear what the problem is. Hundreds of little spiders, scuttling up from the tiles beneath her feet. She makes no jab at them with the spear and simply keeps walking. She hasn't defeated them; they're crawling all over her. But she hasn't made a move to acknowledge them, which is what she really needed to do. She's not scared. She'll keep going no matter what. I turn around to see Ron, pale as a sheet, staring at the spiders in a state of absolute terror. I give his hand a reassuring squeeze and then I step forwards. I decide to take a short sword as a weapon- even though I have absolutely no idea how to use it. I also have no idea what's coming my way on this course.

It could be anything.

* * *

REVIEW PLEASE! :D Thanks for reading too :) Also either favouriting or following the story would be MEGA-NICE but it's really just the feedback I want :) I need to know people are reading/enjoying this :D THANKS FOR READING! :D I LOVE YOU ALL! :D

Lucy xxx


	14. Training Continues

**Chapter 14**

I walk forwards and grab a spear. I have absolutely no experience with them, but hey, a sword wouldn't do me any better. I brave myself uncertainly before starting the course. I have no idea what's going to happen. I just have to react appropriately. I grit my teeth, clench my hands around the sear shaft, and march determinedly forwards.

All of a sudden birds are released overhead. I recognise them as soon as I see them.  
Jabberjays. District 5 is home to the last natural strain of them, and they're a nightmare. I have no idea how they've survived this ling, but I expect they're more durable than regular birds.  
The first bird calls out and I hear my father's voice. Screaming for my help.

Ignore it. It's a trick. I've heard this all before.

The second bird screeches like my mother. The sounds it making are awful, like she's dying and in pain and I can't do anything to save her and I'm trying my best to resist it but… I spear it. I stab it and stab it and puncture its throat time and time again, cutting off its cries.

The third flies overhead and screams with the voice of Rory. I panic and jab fruitlessly at it, trying to shut it up.

I know it's a trick. I know all too well that it's not real, and yet I'm still terrified for them. I try not to listen to the screams of my loved ones and keep walking; I'm nearly at the end.

Nearly there. It's just a trick. Two more steps. It's not real.

I can't resist stabbing one last bird as I end the course. I let out a long breath I didn't realise I was holding and wipe my sweaty forehead.

I can remember the first time I heard the Jabberjays. I've heard them scream before: the Capitol sometimes recorded the rebels during torture, as a warning, and then sent the birds to the districts.

But I've never heard the screams of the people I hold closest to me. I blink away unshed tears and hand my bloodied spear to an instructor. Jack gives me a questioning look, but I shake my head in return.  
I don't want to talk about it.

**Clara's POV**

The ginger girl has courage, I'll give her that. This is a really odd course to make us try out, but I have to say, I'm sort of enjoying it. I don't think it's designed to challenge us physically, as the climbing course was, but test our reactions. What's-her-face… Clarisse, from 7, was a prime example of this. Hundreds of spiders, absolutely everywhere and she just walked through as if nothing was happening.

Then there's my course. Those tiles slipping out from under me scared me to death, but hopefully it didn't look like it. I reckon that whatever we react to will end up in the arena, which is why I'm slightly worried about those Jabberjays. I've never actually seen them before, and District 2 is barely warm enough for Mockingjays, let alone the capitol's pedigrees.

We ll watch intently as the rest of the tributes battle their way through their unique courses. I watch the boy from 12 with the dark eyes, with particular interest, wondering if he will react.

As he starts walking forwards I notice the first snake spring out of the ground. It wraps it's self around his leg. Where I would have fought to rip it off, the boy simply looks down in mild interest. He squats, and then simply unwraps it from around his leg, even if it's with disguised difficulty. He drops the snake and continues walking, hands in his pockets as if nothing had happened. More snakes start emerging from the tiles , but he doesn't pay them any attention this time, only he keeps walking until he's reached us. Sherlock, whose name I remember because of his outburst earlier, keep eye contact with the boy, seemingly undaunted. They both have… strong personalities.

I turn to the doctor and raise my eyebrows.

"Either of those two… Do you think they're possible allies?" I ask him, whispering, but he shakes his head.

"God no." He mutters. "That guy from 12… Moriarty. He's not someone I want on my side, at all. And that Sherlock guy is far too headstrong to join us." He replies and I laugh softly.

"And you'd know all about that, wouldn't you?" I reply, grinning. He rolls his eyes. "So you think we should just ally with 1 and 4?" I ask him, but he shakes his head.

"Nah." He grins. "It's boring!" I laugh at his trivial summary of the Hunger Games. "I'm all about individuality me." He winks.

"So who then?" I ask him and he thinks.

"Not sure yet. We'll see tomorrow, eh?"

I nod and turn back s Donna heads towards us.

"Well done, all of you. I apologise for putting you through that ordeal, but it's for your benefit." She smiles at us, but I don't believe her. "We have one last test to do and then you can all bog off to wherever you want." She tells us and there's a collective laugh from most of us. "Right. What we're gonna do now, is an agility course." Donna announces, and presses a button on her watch.

The edges of the training room sink down and when they rise up again, there are all sorts of agility courses, courses, hurdles, tunnels, etc. I groan, agility courses having never been my strong point.

"Well, just to add to the competition, we'll let you all go through this at once, and we'll see who the winner is shall we?" Donna grins. "Line up!" She orders and I grudgingly take my place at the start, along with everyone else. It's going to be a shove, and I'm not particularly keen to get caught under that net with the brutal figures of Hook and Clarisse from 7.

Although I suppose I have no choice but to get on with it.

* * *

THANK YOU FOR READING, AND I'M SORRY IT'S TAKEN AGES! I was on holiday, and then I had coursework to do... But I can get back to this now which is great :)

**PLEASE REVIEW, **because it means a huge mount to me, and I'd love to know that people are reading and enjoying this. It doesn't matter if you've reviewed before; I like knowing what you thought about the individual chapters :)

Lucy xxx


	15. Prove Yourself

**Chapter 15**

**Isabelle Lightwood (District 6)**

Alec shoots a warning look at me as we line up to the start of the course and I smirk. Of course I can do this. _We_ can do this. Clarisse from seven is also smiling, although it's not a nice smile. I think she's planning something in her head, and that smile makes me glad I don't know what it is.

Focusing my attention back on the course, I scan the obstacles, finding my way over and through each one in my mind. Should be fairly simple.

"On your marks… Get set," Donna calls and I take a deep breath. "GO!" She shouts and we start running forwards. Alec and I are among the ones at the front, mixing it up with the revered careers.

The first obstacle is a wide climbing frame, which I scale with no problem. Leaping down on the other side, I land in a crouch and sprint forwards. Next up is a net we have to crawl under, and I can feel the pressure of the other tributes round me. I cannot get caught up in this. It'll be so much worse for me if I do. So I collapse down onto my front and crawl forwards, using my forearms to pull me forwards. It's harder than I expected, but I can battle through this. I'm a Lightwood. Agility is where we excel.

I make it out of the net and look up, noticing Clarisse and the Doctor already ahead of me. I grit my teeth and run forwards, battling through the next sections, which are hurdles. It's hard, and I know my technique is probably wrong, but I manage to leap over them all so I don't think it matters. And I'm not too far behind Clarisse, ether, so that's a God send. There's a multitude of footsteps behind me, and I cast my mind back, as I run, to seeing them all for the first time. I feel bad for John Watson, the district 9 boy. He can't be getting very far with that limp.

Alec is not running side by side with me, and I'm glad. It's bad enough we're in the games together, but we agreed that seeing as we were going in, we'd spend our last couple of days together. To be perfectly honest, I wouldn't want to be killed by anyone else.

We make our way past the hurdles and up another climbing wall. This one is harder, although by now we've separated out a bit and there's more space. This time I haven't got District 3 lapping at my heels.

The final course is raised stepping stones. We cannot do this as a pair, and Alec charitably lets me go first. We both leap from stepping stone to stepping stone, placing our feet carefully and with difficulty. At our current pace it's difficult, but I am determined not to fall off. The Gamemakers are watching.

I leap down from the final one and sprint to the finish, where Clarisse and the Doctor are already waiting. Alec lands a second after me and we turn to watch as the other tributes arrive. John Watson is last, and limping along towards the second climbing frame. Even if he, by some miracle, manages to get past that he won't be able to do the stepping stones. Not with a limp.

Looking up at the Gamemakers I can see varying degrees of interest. Some are watching intently (one even has a notepad) and others are sat around drinking and laughing with each other. It's hard to watch, knowing that they're going to end up killing at least half of the tributes here, one way or another.

Deciding to ignore their presence, I shake my hair out and watch as the last few tributes make their way over the line. I'm surprised to see that Sherlock from 3 and Dekka from 11 are already stood about with us. Maybe I shouldn't write their districts off so easily. You never know.

Alec follows my gaze to the course.

"District 12 is remarkably relaxed about all this." He murmurs to me, and at first I glance to Teresa, who I noticed first of all because she looks like me. Then I realise who he's talking about. I turn my gaze back to the course only to see Jim Moriarty casually walking forwards on the course. He's chewing something, and it's infuriating how calm he looks. Despite his nonchalance, he's still not last, poor John Watson struggling with that position. He steps onto the first 'stone,' and lightly makes his way through them, barely making any effort.

I decide to ignore this. He scares me, and I'll admit that, but you simply cannot be casual about the Hunger Games. That's how you get killed. Although I get the feeling sponsors will be high for District 12 this year. Teresa's quite easily the prettiest tribute, even if it's painful for me to admit that, and Jim is terrifying without even having to do anything. The Capitol appreciates terror and they covet beauty.

Donna ends the course when we see John fall from the climbing wall. She exchanges a few quiet words with him before they both re-join our group.

"Right tributes. Your first day of training is over, and you have all completed the mandatory training." She announces, smiling slightly. Clarisse snickers.

"_Almost_ all of us." She retorts, and we all turn to look at John. He reddens, but stares us down until we look away, which is a good thing. Resilience is another useful trait for the games.

"You are all free to do as you please for this evening, on several conditions. You will not leave the building. I should also point out that you will not be able to, but any attempt may be taken out on your training score." She warns us and we nod. I wasn't planning on it anyway. "Secondly," She continues. "No fighting with the other tributes. That's precisely what next week is for." She tells us and there are a couple of laughs. I don't know if I'm quite up to laughing yet. District 6 isn't renowned for its victors after all, and I need to focus on winning. And of course my brother, but at least one of us has to die. So I can't design any sort of strategy around him.

There's only one victor, right?

* * *

**I'M BACK AND WRITING AGAIN! WOOOO!**

Looks like the competition is heating up though, and it's only training, so who is everyone rooting for? Does anyone have a particular POV they want me to do? And, what do you think of the characters themselves? I'm going to be updating more regularly from now on, because I just had a massive break and I do really want to finish this. Let me know what you think and **PLEASE REVIEW. IT MEANS THE WORLD**.

Thanks for reading,

Lucy XXXX


	16. Rooftop Alliance

**Chapter 15**

**Molly's POV (District 3)**

We eat dinner in silence as always; Sherlock doesn't talk when he's thinking. Saying that… Sometimes he does, but not to anyone. Not to me.

But however stale the conversation is, the food is delicious. A creamy, spicy chicken sauce and rice… it's gorgeous. I haven't had food like this since… Well, I haven't had food like this.

Sherlock, however, is barely picking at it. He's staring at the wall and occasionally shaking his head as if dismissing something important. Maybe he is? I mean, God knows what goes on in his funny little head.

"Shut up." He mutters and I jump.

"I didn't say anything." I mumble, but I don't think he even hears me. I look down and finish my meal in silence, trying not to make eye contact with him. I love him to bits, but I don't think he knows I exist sometimes. Setting down my cutlery, and wiping my mouth, I stare up at him.

"I'm going out to the roof." I tell him, but receive no response. Sighing, I stand and take the lift up to the roof. We may all have our own apartments, but the roof is common territory, as is the training room. I would go down there, as the architecture was interesting, if it wasn't frequented by careers. I don't need their jabs. Clarisse is bad enough and she'd from _seven_.

The lift shoots smoothly up and I try not to think too hard about Sherlock as it does so. The doors open and I am greeted by a sudden burst of wind which makes me smile. It's nice after having been cooped up inside all day.

I can see the Lightwood twins from six out of the corner of my eye, sitting and looking out of the Capitol, talking in hushed voices, but I decide to ignore them knowing their arrogance and beauty will not compliment my mousy shyness. There are some tributes at the end of the roof, sat in a small circle, talking amongst themselves. I decide to go and say hello, which is oddly brave of me. But unless Sherlock has a change of heart in the space of the next few days, I may as well have no alliance. Last time I checked you had to know they were there to work with them.

Sat down is Hermione and Sam from 8, Ron from 5, Teresa from 12, and Luffy from 11. It's possibly the oddest group of tributes so far. I wonder fleetingly why they're all sat together but decide to dismiss those thoughts. I have to socialise.

"Hi." I mumble, staring down at them. They look up and I try to make my own deductions about them, the way I know Sherlock would. Sam and Hermione are grim faced. They seem like the leadership types, but that's all I can tell. Ron from five looks kind of confused. I've already decide I kind of like him; he looks dependable, you know the sort of person you can trust. Although of course you can't really trust anyone in the arena; the games don't work like that. Teresa… Well what can I say. _I'm_ attracted to her, and I've never swung that way before. She's beautiful. Her stylist is an idiot if he does anything to try and downplay that, because her face _alone_ will fetch sponsors. Then there's Luffy, who's grinning like an idiot. I don't know why he smiles all the time, I really don't. It's all I can do to focus on what the games hold in store, and he seems to be either completely oblivious, or really, really confident. I kind of like that quality though. He's cheerful even in the worst of times.

"Hello. Molly, isn't it?" Hermione asks and I nod.

"Can I sit?" I ask and she shrugs.

"If you want." Sam invites and I carefully sit down with them, Ron scooting over to make room.

"We were talking about the careers." Teresa tells me. "What they were gonna do." I nod.

"I don't think they're all gonna stick together actually." Hermione muses. "I overheard the tall one from two… I think he wants people to call him the Doctor? But anyway, I heard him talking to Clara from his district about not siding with the other careers. He said it would be boring." She informs us and I try to think. Who would a guy like that side with?

"I get the feeling Clarisse is gonna try and join them. Maybe that Hook guy from her district too." Teresa says, miming the guy from seven with the hook hand. "Do you think they'll allow him that in the arena?" She asks us and I shake my head.

"No. It's a weapon." I dismiss, my voice squeaking a little. I'm bad at talking to groups of people, especially ones I don't really know.

"But what about John from nine? He has a cane, right?" Asks Ron, worriedly.

"I guess you could club someone to death with it, if you were really determined…" Sam mutters. "But he doesn't seem like the type."

"The games change people." Luffy reminds him, still grinning. It doesn't even look forced. He just looks constantly happy, and to be honest, it's reassuring. Even if what he said wasn't particularly friendly, he seems like the type.

"And then there's the boy from your District, Molly." Teresa pipes up. "He seems to know what he's doing… Do you think he'll ally with the careers? I bet they'll want him." She asks and I shake my head.

"Sherlock isn't like that. He doesn't like being around people… Not even me." I murmur and Teresa pats my back.

"I know how you feel." She replies and we all stare at her.

"Yes, but let's be honest," Ron begins, incredulous. "That Moriarty kid? He's bloody terrifying." He counters and she laughs.

"Yes, I suppose so… We're all kind of used to it in twelve." She smiles, almost reminiscent. I don't think I could ever get used to that.

"What do we think about the Alice girl, from one?" Asks Hermione. There's a collective shrug.

"I'm not sure she's even on the same planet as us, to be perfectly honest." Luffy laughs and I smile nervously at him. He has a point… I caught her eye at lunch, but I don't think she even saw me. Which makes both her and Sherlock ignorant of my presence. Maybe I can get through the games if I just act like myself all the time. People seem to ignore me anyway; it shouldn't make much difference.

"So were you guys going to make an alliance?" I decide to ask them, carefully saying 'you.' I can't presume at this stage. Hermione shoots Sam a careful look.

"Maybe." She tells me. Luffy grins and nudges me.

"Maybe we'll even let you in." He says, laughing. Hermione and Sam shoot him warning looks and I blush.

"You don't have to. It's fine." I mumble. I see Hermione sigh out of the corner of my eye and I know she feels bd. It's alright though. I'm used to this kind of thing; it's nice enough that they're letting me talk to them now.

"Well maybe we will." She relents and Sam rolls his eyes. "We'll see."

"What's wrong with her joining it?" Asks Luffy, and Teresa nods with him. Sam sighs.

"You're going to make me answer that?" He asks, tiredly. Luffy nods, still grinning.

"Yeah. Look at her. She's smart. She noticed that there weren't any mines didn't she?" He asks pointedly, and Teresa nods. Sam and Hermione exchange glances.

"I don't have a problem with it. Since you're all asking." Ron points out, slightly moodily and Hermione smiles at him.

"I don't want to cause any trouble." I blurt, not wanting them to argue.

Luffy shakes his head, and I notice properly that he's still wearing his straw hat. I presume they wear them a lot in district 11, what with the sun and the grasses to make them with. Teresa and he, maybe even Ron, seem to be alright about me joining. I was right about Sam and Hermione having leadership though, because if I'm going to join this alliance, I'm clearly going to need their OK.

"We'll see in the morning, alright?" Hermione compromises, and that's good enough for me.

The rest of the evening is spent talking about the games and what the arena could possibly be. And to my great surprise, it's nice. I enjoy talking to the others, with Hermione's rationality, Sam's experience, Luffy's reassurance, Ron's humour, and Teresa's hopeful nature. Even with the prospect of the games hanging over us, it's a far sight better than sitting opposite Sherlock in the living room as he ignores me for another couple of hours.

I smile.

* * *

**AND IT'S ANOTHER UPDATE! WOOO! I didn't expect to get another one done today, but tah-dah! I hope you're all enjoying this, as much as I'm enjoying writing it :) Again, let me know if there's a character you want a focus on, or something you'd like to suggest about the arena/interviews/other details to do with the games. Please review, as it means the world to me, and follows/favourites are MUCH APPRECIATED. SERIOUSLY. Also, have I done the characters properly? Is there something about a character you think is missing? Please let me know! **

**Thanks for reading (you're all fantastic), **

**Lucy XXX**


	17. If You Insist

**Chapter 17**

**John Watsons POV (District 9)**

I make my way grudgingly down to the canteen, sure it'll be empty. Tributes eat there at lunch, but dinner is for our apartments. Otherwise; anywhere in the building is good to go. Only, of course I know that the careers will be lounging about or maybe even working out in the training room, so that isn't an option. I've already been marked down due to my limp and I don't need their snide comments. The roof is an option, but I know it's usually a popular spot; I want to be alone.

It's a good thing there are lists here. I couldn't make it down the stairs with a limp, especially not down all those floors. The canteen is on the same floor as the training room, so it's about ground level.

Once there, I step out of the lift and hobble my way there, turning on the light as I go. But when I turn on the light to the large, carefully designed, canteen, someone is already there.

Sherlock, the clever one from 3, is sat on the table, legs crossed, eyes closed. I let the door shut behind me.

"Uh… Hello." I say loudly and he looks up, remarkably calm.

"Hello. You're district nine." He remarks and I nod, limping over.

"John. John Watson. Pleased to meet you." I nod curtly, offering him my hand, which he shakes after staring at it for a couple of seconds.

"Sherlock Holmes. And likewise." He murmurs. I watch carefully as his eyes flick down to my leg.

"Do you know you can walk perfectly well without the cane?" He asks me, and I redden.

"What?"

"I'm guessing it's a strategy. Appear weak. Then use that as an advantage in the arena?" He asks me and I shake my head in disbelief.

"How did you know that?" I murmur, wondrously.

"Your stance. It's not hard to tell." He mutters, gesturing casually down me. I blink.

"No one else guessed that."

"I didn't guess. I noticed." He retorts, although he says it mildly.

"I suppose you'll tell everyone now?" I ask him, put out that someone's finally found me out. I don't need the cane. I can walk perfectly fine, and I'd hoped that I could trick the other tributes into underestimating me. Hasn't worked. Sherlock frowns.

"Why would I do that? Knowing about it is to my advantage, why would I give them that too?" He points out, incredulous. I stare at him, wondering why I didn't consider that.

"Fair enough. Mind if I join you?" I ask, all my wishes to be alone forgotten. This boy intrigues me. He must be about a year older, and he's handsome. But it's the intelligence, the sharp tongue, the complexity, that's interesting. He nods, after looking me up and down again.

"Be my guest." He invites, and I sit on the table top opposite him, no longer needing to use the cane.

"Cheers."

"So… What's it like working in the fields?" He asks me, as I sit back. I frown momentarily.

"How did you…" I mumble, trailing off, and he smirks.

"Your token." He points out, and I look down. "The bracelet on your left wrist, it's made of woven grass. Clearly not something you'd get for yourself; look at you, you're trying to be resilient, and tough, and focused, and you aren't going to waste time on something like jewellery. Your hands, secondly, they look like they've seen a lot of work; they're calloused and you have the remains of old blisters. So you're clearly used to field work. But your bracelet is really the key point in this; it's made of grasses, which suggests a typical District 9 job and a connection to the fields. You're tanned, but you haven't been sunbathing, because there's no tan above your wrists. It's hot in district 9, so I'd imagine if it was up to you you'd wear a t-shirt, _unless_ of course what you were wearing was a mandatory capitol issued uniform for the fields, which means long sleeves. Conclusively… You can draw it all together and it's obvious. You work in the fields of District 9."

I stare, wide eyed at Sherlock. He stares right back until a thought occurs to him.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't do that. People don't like-" He begins, but I interrupt.

"That was fantastic." I blurt. He looks startled and I blush.

"Really?"

"Of course. It was… absolutely incredible." I tell him, still staring at him in rapt wonder. Sherlock smiles.

"Thank you. That's not what people usually say." He says, pleased with himself.

"What do people usually say?" I ask, curious. Sherlock laughs.

"All manner of things." He replies mysteriously and I laugh. The sound feels foreign in this room. It feels as though I am painting the walls of the canteen with my laughter, because God knows how uncommon it is before the games. We're about to go to our death; no one finds any humour in that. But it feels good. It feels better to be here.

"So how are you holding up? You know… With the whole we're going to our death situation?" I ask him, voicing my thoughts. He shrugs.

"I don't know. I've looked at the odds, but until I've see the arena, I can't make any educated guesses. I mean… One of us has to win." He murmurs, clearly thinking. I don't think he's the compassionate type, so I don't expect him to ask back. I answer anyway.

"I think we all have a reasonably good chance this year." I muse. He looks up.

"Why's that?" He questions, and I shrug.

"You know… I mean… The outlying districts are usually really scared, right? This year they're not… we're not. The ground is leveller." I explain, not really knowing. But Sherlock nods.

"I know what you mean. The tributes this year are more even." He murmurs, lost in thought.

"Did you do the whole deduction thing on them too?" I ask him and he smiles slightly.

"Most of them, yes."

"Most?"

"I missed the boy from 12 and the girl from 7."

"They're the scariest." I murmur, thinking of Moriarty's black, sinister stare, and Clarisse's strong body.

"No they're not." Sherlock dismisses.

"How do you know?"

"They're using scare tactics. Dull. Mundane. Expected." He says, immediately writing them off, to my complete disbelief. "The scary ones are the ones like you. Maybe even that one from 4… Annabeth, that's her name. The ones that are staying quiet, but you've got stuff to hide." He explains. This gets me wondering what on earth Annabeth has to hide, but I decide not to push it.

"It's a good thing you know all this stuff…" I murmur, thinking about how useful it would be to tell a person's life history from one glance.

"I don't know, I notice." He interjects and I smile.

"Then you are the most observant man I have ever met." I reply and I see the ghost of a smile cross his face.

"Did you have any plans for alliances?" He asks me and I shake my head.

"No." I reply firmly, and then catch his eye. "Unless… You know…" I trail off, leaving him to finish it.

"Unless what?" He asks, clearly not catching on. I sigh.

"Unless you wanna ally with me?" I ask him, and he smirks.

He looks me up and down once more, before laughing softly once, and nodding.

"If you insist, Mr Watson."

* * *

**Lots of new alliances getting together... What do we think? Good or bad? Once again, suggestions about things to come are appreciated, so you can PM me, or review the story. Reviews are great actually, so get onto that if you want :) Did we like Sherlock's deduction? Was it accurate enough? I feel like it was something he would do... And what's this about scare tactics and things to hide? Mysterious... **

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**Lucy XXX**


	18. Train Like Your Life Depends On It

**Chapter 18**

**Amelia Pond's POV (District 5) **

"Listen up tributes!" Donna calls, catching our immediate attention. It's day two of training, and we've all arrived in the training room for yet another day. Jack is stood next to me, and the be honest, I'm feeling better about this alliance. Donna, gathers around. "Today your individual training begins. Same rules apply, but this time you can choose a station to work on. The Gamemakers will be watching today as well to assess your skills and attributes. Show them this. It could save your life" She tells us, sounding sterner than usual. We nod, and she claps her hands. "Let training commence." She calls and I smile.

Jack looks down at me.

"Where do you wanna start?" He asks and I shrug.

"No idea. What do reckon is more important; defence or offence?" I ask him and he thinks about it.

"Defence first?" He offer and I nod.

"Sounds good."

We head over to the edible plants test, and the instructor looks pleased.

"Hello you two." He smiles and catches a look at the district numbers sewn into our shirts. "Odd pairing, I have to say. But you're very welcome to have a go at this." He invites and we take a seat. I get the feeling it isn't the station most people go to, or at the very least, not the _first_ station people go to.

He shows us a few diagrams of some edible plants, some I recognise which is surprising. District 5 is concrete, but there are dandelions and nettles that grow sometimes, and according to this guy, they're edible. Who knew?

After we look at a bunch we take a test with the real things to see if we've learnt anything. I do better than Jack, which is good, but only by a slim margin. We thank the rather enthusiastic instructor and then move onto the next, which is about how to start fires. We manage this well with matches, and Jack can get a spark with the flint and steel. Neither of us manage to get a flame with the sticks alone, and to be honest, I doubt it can be done.

I look up as the instructor talk to Jack and watch the other tributes. The district One pair, Cedric and Alice, are working at the archery section, which I expected. The Doctor and Clara are working with swords, and Percy and Annabeth are using tridents. They careers are really getting straight to it.

But I'm most surprised at Ron's group. He's walking around with Teresa from 12 and Molly from 3. And those three are occasionally exchanging words with Hermione and Same from 8, who are also going around with Luffy from 11. It's an odd group, but I thought the alliances would be different this year. I'm also slightly jealous that Ron's managed to snag such a big group.

It surprises me to see John Watson from 9 and Sherlock Holmes from 3 together, and they seem to actually be getting along. I wonder what on earth sparked that…

That seems to be it as far as the alliances are concerned. Dekka from 11, the big scary one, is working at the same station, snares, as Guinevere from 9. The Districts have mixed up this year, and whilst it's unusual, I kind of like it.

Jack and I then move on to an offensive station; Spears. I'm a little nervous about this, having used a spear on the Jabberjays from yesterday. We have to throw at these dummy-target-board things, which feels a little weird. I don't want to. I know all too well that I have too, because if you're going to win the games, you have to kill. But there's something very barbaric about it all.

Jack's not very good at it; his aim is off, but I can hit the target surprisingly well. Even accurately. I don't think I could hit anything moving, but this is a definite advantage. And I can see Cedric watching me from the archery range. Maybe this is a good thing; the careers think I'm worth something, so maybe they'll leave me alone for a bit. On the other hand this means they know what I can do, and I'm a target. I decide to ignore this. I have to focus.

We break for lunch and I head to canteen with Jack, before sitting down with some pasta.

"So… Thoughts on the other tributes?" I ask him, stabbing at the food. He thinks.

"Well… The careers are really getting down to it aren't they? All those weapons…" He replies, sounding serious, but then a grin breaks out on his face. "You have to admit though… everyone is _very_ attractive this year." He adds and I laugh.

"Too true. What about the outlying districts?" I ask again and he shrugs.

"Remember district 10 is one of those outlying districts, so be careful." He smirks and I blush, hoping I haven't insulted him. "12 is an odd one this year. Teresa seems to be very cheerful bout all this. I don't know what to make of the boy…"

"He's terrifying." I reply, staring across the canteen at James Moriarty, who's staring into the distance, his dark eyes wide and deep. He notices me and looks straight at me, smiling slightly. I shake myself and look away. Jack is nodding.

"I thought so too. But he's not really done anything other than look disinterested. I can't see him being a very good runner." He says, thinking. I try not to look back at Moriarty.

"What's the girl from your District like? Tally, wasn't it?" I ask and he nods.

"Yeah. She was at the same school in the year below, so I don't know her that well. But I think she's hiding her talents for now. As far as I can remember, she's survived in the wild before, so I can't say the arena will be totally new to her. What about Ron?" He asks and I look down.

"I don't know… We don't know each other." I lie, feeling bad. He stares at me for a moment, clearly trying to figure it out.

"You look alike."

"So does everyone in 5. It's the hair." I dismiss and he grins.

"We'll have to camouflage that in the arena. They could spot you a mile off." He teases and I laugh, fiddling with my ponytail.

"Right." I smirk. "And what about the twins from 6?"

"Not people I wanna cross anytime soon. They'll stick together. I doubt they'll include anyone else."

"They're quite fast." I point out and he shrugs.

"Indeed. But then, so are we." He adds and I smile. Allying with Jack was a good thing. I'd hate to be sat here alone.

We eat our pasta quickly, discussing the other tribute in between, and eventually it's time to head back into the training room. I'm worried. The career table were looking around too, and I happened to catch their eyes at one point. I don't want them to approach me.

I have to focus. I have to stick with Jack, and I have to train and learn new things. I can't worry myself with the careers. Not yet, anyway.

* * *

We're sat at the snare making station when we're approached. It's Tally from Jack's district, to my immense relief. I don't think I can actually talk to the careers at the moment; they've been showing off all day, and I'm growing increasingly terrified.

"Hi Jack." She smiles timidly and he looks up, grinning.

"Hey Tally." He replies.

"Can I join you?" She asks, sounding braver. Jack looks at me first and I nod once to indicate it's ok.

"Go ahead." He smiles and Tally sits down gratefully.

"Thanks. I tried talking to the bigger group, you know, with the district 8 kids in it, but they didn't wanna let me tag around with them." She tells us. This surprises me. Ron is in that group, and he's never been one to turn people away. But then again, I know nothing whatsoever about the other tributes, so there's a good chance he had no say in the matter.

"That was rude." Jack mutters, looking over at them, frowning. Oh dear. The last thing we need right now is disagreements, before the games even start. It makes it more personal.

Tally holds out her hand to me.

"Tally Youngblood. District 10." She introduces, smiling. I smile right back and shake her hand, thinking only of how by the end of the games, she will probably be dead. No disrespect to her at all, but she's not exactly games material. Neither am I, but I wouldn't let myself get put off if another group didn't let me hang around.

"Amy Pond. District 5." I reply, going for the friendly approach. I wonder if including her now means she immediately assumes she's in on the alliance. Although _I_ don't know whether she is or not. I'll have to ask Jack later.

"So how does this work?" Tally asks and the instructor shows her how the knot works, and how it is deployed as a snare. Jack and I are far ahead of her, but she has quick fingers, which is surprising. She manages to complete the snare at the same speed as me and Jack.

Maybe including her isn't such a bad idea…

The instructor shows us a few more, and (as a three) we then decide to practice with more weapons. Jack eagerly suggests axes, and we move onto that station. Unsurprisingly, Jack is very good at using them, both throwing and short range. He's very well built, whereas Tally is slight. I like to think I'm somewhere in the middle, but I'm not what you would call strong. By the time we leave the station my arms are aching from using the axe. It's Tally who suggests archery. Mu muscles groan, but it's a good idea, so we move over there.

Annabeth and Percy are next to us on the range, and she keeps correcting him, sounding irritated. Percy really isn't any good at it; although I saw him use the tridents earlier, and I don't think archery was ever going to be his strong point. Annabeth is good at it anyway, so I doubt they'll need him for it anyway.

We continue to train throughout the day, and it's surprisingly exhausting. I do, however, feel like I've learnt from it. I can throw spears, and my archery isn't too bad. I can set a few basic snares and I know my Nightlock from my Blueberries. It hasn't been a great success, but it hasn't been a disaster.

For the first time in days, I actually feel prepared.

* * *

**I UPDATED AGAIN AND I'M PROUD OF MYSELF! WOO! So what do we think about this chapter? What do we think in general about the tributes? Does anyone have any suggestions for things to come? Let me know in the reviews! I'll get straight onto it! :D **

**Thanks for reading, stay excellent, **

**Lucy XXX**


	19. What Kind of Career Are You Looking For?

**Chapter 19 **

**Percy Jackson (POV)**

"Hey seaweed brain… Do you wanna _not_ do that?" Annabeth asks me, pointedly and I grin. I continue to chew noisily with my mouth open and she rolls her eyes. "Anyway, I wanted to talk to you about alliances. District 1 wanna pair up." She tells me, seriously and I shrug.

"Alright then." I reply, lazily. She scowls.

"Percy. We have to consider this more carefully." She tells me. "Think about what it would mean."

I only shrug. "More sponsors." I point out and she folds her arms and sits back in the dining room chair.

"We're the other tributes target. And I don't know about you, but I don't trust District 1. Alice is barely here. Cedric's arrogant." She mutters and I smirk.

"You like him."

"Do not."

"Do too."

Annabeth groans.

"We can't bicker like this." She sighs. "We've got to think about the games. Strategize." She says, trying to sound determined, but sounding more tired than ever.

"What happened to District 2? They're careers, right?" I ask, stabbing at my meal. She shrugs.

"We haven't heard. I can only assume they're breaking away from the usual pack."

"That's stupid." I mutter but Annabeth shakes her head.

"It's incredibly clever, Percy." She disagrees and I frown.

"How is that _clever_?" I ask, incredulous. She sighs, frustrated. I can tell I'm getting on her nerves, but I can't help it. I have to ask questions.

"Think about it, Percy. District 2, much as I hate to admit it, is the strongest career district. They start work early in life, so they're tough. They get the most 'love' from the Capitol, and they train prolifically. They're breaking free from the usual pack, which means they're different. Interesting. The Capitol will love it." She explains and I stare at her.

"How hard do you think about all this?" I ask and she sighs.

"I _have_ to overthink it all, Percy. This is the Hunger Games. I don't know about you, but I want to win." She retorts, stonily.

I stare at her for a moment.

"Sorry." She mutters, rubbing her face tiredly. I sigh.

"S'fine. We're all stressed." I say quietly, stirring the pasta around on my plate.

"Maybe we should just agree with District 1." She murmurs and I nod.

"Would be easier." I agree, half-heartedly.

"Well come on then seaweed brain." She smiles, carefully, wiping her mouth and hands with the napkin, and setting down her cutlery.

"Where are we going?" I ask, looking up at her as she stands up.

"Down to the training room. It's where district 1 have been hanging out." She tells me and I slump.

"But I'm not done eating." I complain and she shoots me a dry look.

"What's more important? Pasta, or sponsors?" She asks and I roll my eyes, before standing up to join her.

The journey down to the training room is quick and we get down there in no time. The corridors into the room are clearly piquing Annbeth's interest and I'm glad to remember her penchant for architecture. I'm very, very tempted to hold her hand as we walk, but I can't. Besides, it' a bad idea to get too attached to your fellow tributes, because it'll only ever end messily.

Instead I just let her open the doors to the training room, where Cedric and Alice are talking. It's a surprise actually, because Cedric's voice is soft and gentle for once, and Alice actually seems to be concentrating.

"Ah!" Cedric grins when he spots us, and Alice immediately pales and distances again. "District 4!" He leaps up to say hello, but we walk over instead.

"Alliance is on." Annabeth tells him and he smiles.

"Fantastic." He laughs. "Now I guess we just have to work out a strategy. Come sit." He invites.

He and Alice are sat on the stepping stones, so we join them, each sitting down on one.

"So I guess we're going for it at the cornucopia?" Asks Cedric, cutting straight to the chase. I'm going to let Annabeth do the talking for this one; she knows her strategies.

"That depends. District 2 clearly haven't made up their minds about joining us, and at this point we can only assume they aren't going to. Which means they're a threat." Annabeth muses. "If we did, there's always the danger of them… Well. Killing us. But, if we don't it leaves room for the other tributes to grab stuff, and we can count on them being less prepped to kill, so more would walk away from it. We don't need that." She says, and I can almost hear the cogs turning in her brain. I love listening to her work things out like this. It's kind of relaxing.

"You're writing off the other districts." Alice murmurs, looking past Annabeth at a spot on the polished blue wall behind us. Annabeth purses her lips.

"Oh no I'm not. I know they're threats. Particularly 7. I don't think the boy will be much without his hook, but Clarisse is dangerous. She's from 7, and that's lumber, so if she gets her hands on an axe, we're in trouble. That can't happen."

"You've forgotten about 12." Alice chides, breezily and Annabeth glares.

"I'm not scared of the boy." She retorts.

"I mean the girl. She can run faster than any of you." Alice points out and I frown.

"We didn't see her run properly though." I point out and Annabeth nods. Alice finally looks at her, with shockingly blue eyes and an almost wild look.

"Just because you didn't see something doesn't mean it's not true." She says, her voice scarily stark of emotion. Cedric laughs nervously, sensing the tension.

"I though the girl from 11 looked dangerous. Dekka, that's the one." He points out and I nod, trying to stop Alice and Annabeth glaring at each other.

"Yeah I thought so too. And the twins from 6."

We're both nodding furiously now, trying to diffuse the mounting tension .The last thing we need is a disagreement.

"Wouldn't you agree Annabeth?" I ask her and she looks way from Alice.

"Yeah, definitely." She murmurs, but it looks as though she's planning something. I'm almost glad I don't know what it is, because if we're going into the games, and she's fought with lice, it won't be pretty.

* * *

**TENSION IS RISING OOOOOHHHHHH... So what did we think of this chapter? Good? Or not so much... Please let me know in the reviews, and remember, if you have any suggestions for things to come, or any POV requests, I'm open to them too :) **

**Thank you so so so so much for reading; I hope something good happens to you, and you fins money on the steet, or win a coupon for something cool because you deserve it! Stay excellent! **

**Lucy XXX**


	20. You Are Important

**Chapter 20**

**Molly Hooper's POV (District 3) **

I'm sat alone in the stables, in the basement of the training centre. It's where we 'parked' the chariots after the parade, and the horses are still here, quietly neighing in their boxes. There's a faint smell of hay and manure down here, but I don't mind. It's kind of an alien smell to me, seeing as District 3 mostly smells of smog and battery acid, the concrete paved city not allowing plant life to grow. I'm feeling a bit moody, especially given that Sherlock and that Watson by from 9 have been inseparable today, and they've only known each other for what must at most be a few hours. I've known Sherlock my entire _life_, and he's never aid this much attention to me. I just hope that Watson kid treats him right. Sherlock is incredibly stupid when it comes to matters of the heart, or affection, or feelings.

I scuff my shoe against the floor of the stables; kicking up some hay as I do so. It's not fair.

One of the horses whinnies behind me and I jump, unused to the sound. Like I said, we don't have horses, or much nature in district three, so these great beasts are kind of scary.

"He's harmless." Someone quips from behind me and I squeak, turning back to look, afraid it'll be one of the career brutes. I'm half-right.

John Smith, AKA the self-proclaimed Doctor, is stood leaning against the wall of the stable, hands in the pockets of his blue suit.

"Good evening, Molly Hooper." He smiles, walking over. I'm frozen to the spot, worried he'll try to hurt me. It's not unheard of for the tributes to rough each other up before the games, mostly as a scare tactic. And I'm not burly, or strong looking; they wouldn't hesitate to pick on me. However, to my surprise, he sits down on a hay bale opposite me.

"What brings you down here?" He asks and I blink, caught off guard by the question.

"I could ask you the same thing." I mumble, trying to sound braver than I am, and failing miserably. He smiles.

"Bored of the others." He replies and I flinch. That's exactly the kind of thing Sherlock would say, except about me. He notices my facial expression and frowns. "You ok?"

I laugh slightly, mostly to myself. Tributes shouldn't really get along like this. It makes the actual games harder, not that I have any confidence I'll win.

"Yeah. I'm fine." I reply, sounding unconvincing, but the Doctor lets the matter drop.

"So what are you doing down here then?"

"Well I thought I was making an alliance, but I'm not sure if they want me. And my district partner doesn't even know I'm there most of the time, so I figured I'd be doing everyone a favour if I just stayed down here."

"You're not doing _anyone_ any favours by denying them the pleasure of your company and intelligence." The Doctor smiles gently and I blush.

"I'm not intelligent." I mumble and he laughs loudly.

"Nonsense. You're from three, right? You read a lot?"

I nod, timidly. He's being very outspoken, and I wonder briefly if there are cameras down here. We must be under surveillance.

"Well, then you're more intelligent than the ones from the outer districts. And believe you me, I don't think District 1, or 6, or 7 have ever even picked up a book. Intelligence is a great asset. Books are the best weapons in the world." He grins and I smile.

"You think?"

"I _know_." He nods, assertively. "You will go far, Molly Hooper." He tells me. He sounds so determined. He mustn't yet realise that I'm not important. I never have been I'm always overshadowed by people, but I've come to accept that. That's just how it works. I'm Molly Hooper. I don't count.

And even if I did, I couldn't actually _win_. Here the doctor is, bragging about how fantastic intelligence is, so clearly he's clever too. But he's also a career, and he's trained. He'd beat me in a fight hands down. You can get as far as you like in the games with traps, and snares, and clever plots, but there has never been a victor who hasn't killed someone. You have to. You'll always have to. That's how the games work.

So I won't win. I might last a night, maybe two, before I get into combat, and simply cannot fight my way out, because I was born in the wrong District and I have no advantage. I cannot win, and I do not expect to.

The Doctor is looking at me funnily, frowning slightly.

"You don't believe me do you?" He asks, his voice low. I smile, but there's nothing to be happy about.

"No." I reply, honestly. "I don't count."

"What?!" He cries, and I blink, surprised at his outburst. He's staring at me incredulously, and I can't help but stare back, wondering what I said wrong. He makes a strangled noise of frustration and pushes his hair back. "Say that again. Say what you just said!" He demands and I open my mouth, stuck for words.

"I… I don't count?"

"Yes, that. Why would you ever say that?!" He asks, in a combination of desperation, annoyance, and wonder.

"Because it's true. I don't count." I reply, my voice surprisingly hollow. "I'm just a girl."

"_Just a girl_?! Oh, no. No, no, no. Oh, dear Molly Hooper. I can tell you _right now_, before the games even start, that you are _more_ than just a girl! You are important. Everyone is important! Including you, Molly Hooper. _So very important_. Don't forget it." He says, almost demandingly, jabbing a finger at me.

"I… Important?" I stutter, alarmed, but admittedly pleased by his declaration.

"Yes. Very much so. Never forget that. Don't let anyone ever make you forget that."

And then he stands up, opens his mouth as if he's about to say something, thinks better of it, and walks off.

I sit there for a few minutes, thinking over what he's just told me, before heading back upstairs to the roof. I can join the alliance.

I am important.

* * *

**Yay for Molly (and the Doctor)! Right, I'm off for another week now, so in the the meantime take it upon yourself to mull over what you would like to see more of in this fanfiction. Do you have any requested POV's? Do you have any little details you want me to include? Or do you just want to say hi? Please feel free to review this story, and remember, follows and favourites re rewarded with telepathic hugs. I hope you have a lovely week! **

**Thanks for reading, please stay as excellent as you always are, I love you.**

**Lucy XXXX**


	21. What's Wrong?

**Chapter 21**

**Rose Tyler's POV (Capitol) **

Well, the tributes have been training for two days now and there's only one day left before the interviews. Obviously we're not allowed to watch what they're doing as of the moment, but there're large, electronic scoreboards dotted about the Capitol, with the odds.

They take into account height, weight, District history, and what the Gamemakers have already seen in training. Of course they're never fully accurate, as some tributes hide their talents and save them for the games, but they're a good estimation of some of the careers and how they'll pit against each other.

At the moment, District 4 is doing best, with the other careers and 7 coming close behind. It's odd really… Usually the outer districts have odds that are ridiculous, coming in at about 50-1 sometimes. Whereas the careers are usually around 5-1. This year, the playing field is remarkably even, and that makes it incredibly hard to choose who to sponsor.

Micky is still pleased with his sponsor of the boy from 2, which I can understand, but it's not very wise of him. He has no idea what the other districts have to offer and it was a rash decision at best.

In any case, I've all but made up to not bet on a career district, mostly because I'm being stubborn. I decided after the parade that I would try to sponsor someone who would _need_ me. And also not the scary one from 12 because I have a feeling he'll do just fine.

I wonder if Martha's going to sponsor anyone… Maybe I could rope her in to sponsoring the same tribute as me; then it wouldn't just be me and I'd have someone else who was bearable to watch the actual games with. Don't get me wrong, Mickey's great, but…

My train of thought is interrupted by a frantic knocking on the door. Jumping, I hurry to answer it, wondering who it could be.

Harley Quinn is stood on my doorstep. My eyes widen in surprise and I stand aside immediately to let her in.

"Harley. Hi." I mumble as she walks in, looking annoyed. "It's been a while."

"Yeah, sorry about that." She replies looking around the hall. "How've you been?" She asks me and I shrug.

"Alright. You?"

"Not very good. Can I talk to you about it?" She asks me, finally catching my eye. I nod hurriedly.

"Of course."

Harley and I have known each other of years, mostly because our parents were friends. She's head Gamemaker now though, so I hardly see her anymore, which is a pity. I'm slightly miffed that she only came to see me because she needed someone to talk to, which makes me feel like a shelf friend, but whatever. If she needs me, I'm here.

We head into the kitchen and she sits opposite me at the island counter, drumming her fingers on the table top.

"There's been this huge upheaval at work, and I'm in trouble." She tells me and I feel the blood drain from my face. When Gamemakers are in trouble, we don't hear from them again. Ever. They aren't even mentioned.

"Oh God. What happened?" I ask her and she sighs, rubbing her face.

"You know how the Head Gamemakers decide the arena? I'm not meant to tell you this, but I don't suppose it matters much now. I came up with this idea, where it would be a maze? We'd have a clearing in the middle for the cornucopia, and some pools, but that would be it, and it was going well. The President had agreed to it, and the plans were going ahead very successfully. And then, a couple of days ago, I found out that the President had changed to arena to this ridiculous castle design. I suppose it was a good arena, but I was told it was his idea, and you know… All that work I did. Gone." She sighs.

"Well that's alright. You still get to do the games, even if it's with a different arena." I reassure her, patting her hand, but she shakes her head.

"That's not the end of it. Yesterday, I decided to ask the President about it, and he had no idea we'd changed the arena." She tells me, avoiding eye contact, her voice taut with stress. I frown.

"What… You mean…"

"Somebody else, and we don't know who, changed the arena. It wasn't me, and it wasn't him, and now I'm in trouble for letting it happen." She confesses, the panic pouring out through her words. I can't think of anything to say. The games have been infiltrated, and we don't know how much of a risk this is." She tells me, on edge.

"Oh my God, Harley." I mumble, uselessly. She looks up at me, urgent.

"Listen. This can't get out. We're going to have to pretend that everything is ok, and that the arena was our idea and that it was planned. We cannot appear as vulnerable." She blurts, speaking so fast I can barely understand her. But I nod, because she's in trouble, and she needs reassuring.

"Ok. Ok." I say, quietly. "Why did you tell me?"

"I had to tell someone who I was friends with. Someone who wouldn't spread it around. I trust you, Rose." She mumbles and I smile weakly.

"Thank you. You're going to be fine, alright? Just pretend like it was your idea all along. The audience won't suspect a thing." I tell her, trying to sound dismissive, when really I'm panicking. This could go so badly wrong. Head Gamemakers are to blame if the games go wrong.

"Really?"

"Yes. You'll be fine."

* * *

**It was a short chapter this time (sorry) bUT INTERESTING TWIST, AM I RIGHT? I wonder what's going to happen, and also I wonder who on earth managed to change the arena plans like that? I'm joking I know exactly what's going to happen but you don't so ha, I bet you're on the edge of your seats right now. Once again, please REVIEW with what you thought, which can be praise, constructive criticism, or ideas about what you want to see in the future of this fic. **

**Thanks for reading! Please stay excellent and as fabulous as you are, and remember to stay positive! You're all fantastic.**

**Lucy XXX**


	22. Alliances and Arenas

**Chapter 22**

**Guinevere Pendragon's POV (District 9)**

"Are you following me?" The older girl, Dekka snaps, looking back at me. I feel myself blush as I frantically shake my head. I'm lying of course. I need to stick close to her, because I simply haven't made an impression on the Gamemakers, and I can see Clarisse watching me like I'm… Well, like I'm a meal. Which I suppose I am, compared to her brute-like strength. All I've got is limited knowledge of grains, and that doesn't get you very far in a fight.

Dekka however, is powerful. She must be a foot taller than Clarisse, with broad shoulders, and a dark, fierce glare. She radiates power, and it's a lot more threatening than Clarisse's, because she could kill you with her _hands_. Dekka's power is silent and deadly, but crushing and large, whereas I can't imagine Clarisse without a snide comment and a weapon.

"No. Sorry." I mumble, and I'm about to walk off when Dekka glances behind me. I know district 7 have been following me about, deliberately, always a station behind; showing how much better they are than me. Dekka clenches her fists and I fight the urge to turn around and look at Clarisse's smug face.

"Come on." Dekka mutters, gruffly.

We're not an alliance; I can tell that much. But at least I'm not wandering the hall alone, like the scary one from 12. Not that he needs anyone. He seems perfectly content to wander about by himself, paying mild interest to the various different stations.

There are a lot of odd pairings this year.

In fact, when it comes down to it, there's only a couple of us who are going to be out in the arena by ourselves. There's me, Dekka, the scary boy from 12, the hook boy from 7, Clarisse, and… that's it. Everyone else has found themselves an Alliance, even if it's only temporary. I wonder what the Capitol will make of all this. Alliances are interesting, but too many might seem a little too extraordinary. You can bet that the Gamemakers will unleash something on one of them, mostly likely the largest.

Maybe being out by myself will be easier. Certainly less conspicuous. Six people in a group isn't gonna be hard to miss, especially if they're talking.

We sit ourselves down at the plants section. Dekka doesn't like to talk, but the instructor is more than happy to teach us a few things, and chatters on insistently, pleased to have people to teach. Seeing as we're both from agricultural districts, we both know a fair amount about what's edible, and what would kill you if you so much as touched it, so the instructor has an easy job. We complete a small test at the end of it and Dekka does better than me, but only by one question. The instructor looks proud, and sends us on our way with a cheery wave and an enthusiastic grin.

"I get the feeling he doesn't get many visitors." I murmur and catch the faint trace of a smile on Dekka's lips. "Where next?" I ask her and she shrugs.

"You choose."

"Uh…" I look around and spot a shelter building spot at the back. "There?" I ask, pointing. Dekka follows my finger and nods. As we walk over, I take the chance to look around at the other tributes. Sherlock and John, which is an alliance I would never have seen coming, are stood at the snares station, where Sherlock seems to be talking very quickly. John is grinning his head off, staring raptly at Sherlock as if he was God's gift.

The Doctor and Clara are sword fighting with two different instructors, which I find odd, because the other careers are completing an assault course on the opposite side of the room. District 2 is usually the one that binds the careers together, not the one that leaves it.

Then there's the largest alliance of six, who have broken up into threes and are walking around trying to find a station, occasionally conversing and changing between groups. They're going to be ones to watch out for. A large group like that will attract sponsors, and they'll have the individual merits of each person in the group. Something I won't have. Besides, they'll get proper rest, what with some of them keeping watch, while others sleep. I'll have to find a tree or a cave somewhere if I want a peaceful, bloodless night.

The perfect twins from 6 are practicing with the spears together, each sowing off, seemingly competing. I wonder if there's ever been any sibling rivalry, because the pressure of the arena has been known to amplify things. Past disputes can easily arise, and things can get messy if you aren't careful.

The trio of Amy, Jack, and tally are stood working at the hand-to-hand combat station, where they seem to be doing well. I wonder briefly if they'll be a bigger problem than I first thought. I have to win. There are people back at home who are counting on me, and I can't disappoint them. I have to see my family again. I have to see Arthur again.

Shelter building turns out to be relatively easy. There are couple of things you have to watch out for, such as insect nests, poisonous plants, and exposed areas, but usually it's a snap. The best hides are in clumps of bushes, or in trees. Some work best in caves. One of the main rules is; make it as dry as possible. Damp dens can be a lot more trouble than you'd think.

Lunchtime creeps up on me before I feel the time passing.

* * *

**Harley Quinn (Head Gamemaker)**

"Harley, please tell me you have found out who did this to the arena?" Asks the President, his voice low and menacing as always.

"No your honour, but we have people working to find them." I reply, fighting to keep my voice steady. If it wasn't for my need to publicly appear throughout the game commentary, I'd be dead already. I can rest assured that once this grace period is over, I'm as good as gone. President Saruman clicks his tongue impatiently.

"It must be done. In the meantime, have you changed any of the arena?"

"I have added heavier foliage, and expanded the grounds, using different terrain types. The pods have all been examined for bugs that could have been placed. They were clean." I tell him, my palms sweating. "I think whoever did it just wants to see their arena put into action."

The President stares at me for a minute, and just when I feel he's about to say something he looks away and sits back.

"You may go."

* * *

**John Watson POV (District 9)**

I'm walking painstakingly slowly into the dining room when Sherlock grabs my arm, knocking me off balance. I stumble, and manage to catch myself using the cane before I fall.

"John I need to talk to you." He says, urgently. I look up at him, mildly annoyed. I'm once again caught off guard by his perfect, sculpted features, but more so the vertigris eyes.

"About what?" I ask, worried. The careers stalk by us and we both watch them go, carefully. If they find out our strategies, particularly the blonde from 4, we're screwed.

"In private." Sherlock replied, his voice cold as usual. "Come on."

I follow after him, keeping up the limp, and he does charitable slow down for me. We thought about the limp, and how it could work as an advantage in the arena. They'll underestimate me. Think I can't run. People are easier to trick when they're caught off guard (or so Sherlock said).

We head into the weapons room, which is now empty, as everyone has departed for lunch. I don't doubt the room is bugged, but Sherlock is a fast talker and I'm a good listener.

"Ok, we need to rethink the whole meet up after the cornucopia." He tells me immediately. I frown.

"What's wrong with it?"

"There's no guarantee I'll be able to find you. Besides, we don't know what the arena is. I could be behind the cornucopia and, from your point of view, you couldn't see me." He explains and I pout.

"So what then?"

"We need a signal."

"A signal?"

"Anything. A bird call, a series of clues to find."

"A bird call I can manage." I decide, standing up straighter. "We have this signal in 9. They call it the Vatican Cameo."

"Why?"

"There was this little militia movement a while ago. They started fighting against the remaining mutts in 9, and they used that as a call. The bird call adapted from it." I explain, half-heartedly.

"Your district is very strange." Sherlock remarks, smiling a little. I grin.

"I could say the same about you techno boy." I reply and he laughs quietly.

"How does it go then?" He asks me and I whistle a short tune. It's concise, but easy to recognise. Sherlock has the memory of an elephant when he needs it. He repeats it and I nod.

"Fantastic." He grins and I can't help smiling too. "Lunch?"

"Starving."

* * *

**OH YEAH IT WAS A LONG CHAPTER THIS TIME ARE YOU PROUD? Anyhow, this was the last chapter before the scary private training tomorrow, which must be worrying for the tributes. Does it show that I ship Johnlock? Anyhow, what did we think of this chapter? Let me know in the reviews, and remember to follow/favourite! **

**I LOVE YOU ALL YOU'RE AMAZING!**

**Lucy XXXX**


	23. Training Results D1-D3

**Chapter 23**

**Rose Tyler's POV (Capitol)**

I'm sat in front of the TV with Martha, with my tribute notebook. Caesar Flickerman is about to announce the scores of the tributes in their individual training. This is where it counts. This is where you know if your early bet was smart, or the most stupid decision you ever made. This is vitally important.

The screen turns on and Caesar Flickerman turns around in his chair, flashing us a winning smile.

"Welcome, Capitol viewers, to the results of the private training!" He begins and I can't help but smile back. He's been presenter for years, and you can understand why. He has a very magnetic, friendly, personality that you can grasp even across screens.

"I wonder is Mickey's watching…" Martha murmurs and I smile.

"He'll be watching." I reply, knowingly. Mickey loves the games usually, but considering his early bet this year, this could be a very worrying broadcast for him. There's nothing worse than finding out your tribute isn't going to do well after you've bet on them.

"As usual, we start with District 1!" He begins and I hold my pen poised over the paper of my notebook .

"Cedric Diggory receives a score of…" Caesar leans forwards and shuffles his card for suspense. "10!" He announces and I'm not at all surprised. Looking at the little moving shot of Cedric on the screen it's easy to see he's athletic, and he's from District 1, so clearly he's trained for this. I jot down the number 10 next to his name. Martha peers over my shoulder.

"You're very committed to this." She says, clearly holding back a laugh. I shrug.

"I'm interested."

"You're obsessed."

"Go big or go home." I mutter and she laughs, tucking her feet up on the sofa.

"If you say so." She chuckles as Cedric's picture dissolves and is replaced by Alice's.

"And now, Alice Kingsley, with a score of… 8!" He calls and my eyebrows shoot up my forehead. That _is_ surprising. District 1 tributes rarely get scores under 9. But then I had my doubts about Alice from the beginning. She always seems so far away, like she's not really concentrating. Even now, on the moving image behind Caesar, her eyes are glazed and unfocused, and she keeps looking around at (seemingly) nothing. I jot down her score nevertheless. This does not rule her out.

"From District 2… John Smith!" Caesar announces and the picture of the tall bot that Mickey bet on appears.

"He's handsome." Martha comments and I grin.

"He's also 18. And from the districts." I reply, scolding her lightly and she chuckles.

"A score of 10!" Announces Caesar and I watch as the number spins around John's grinning face. I note it down and wonder how hard he had to try for that. Of course 2 is typically career based, so a high score was expected, but you have to wonder sometimes…

"I bet Mickey's happy." Martha murmurs and I only hum in response.

"Cedric got 10 too, remember." I remind her, gently. We focus our attention back on the screen and I watch as Clara's energetic and determined face condenses onto our screen.

"Clara Oswald!" Caesar calls and I hold my pen ready. I have high hopes for her. "With a score of… 10!" He announces and I make a small, satisfied noise.

"Thought so." I mutter writing it down.

The district three tributes are next, and this is very interesting. The older one, Sherlock Holmes, is by far one of the mos tintresting tributes there. He looks sossmug on the moving image of him and I can't help but smile.

"Sherlock Holmes…" Caesar begins, dramatically. "3!" He announces and my mouth droops open.

3? What on earth did he do, or not do, to deserve that?

* * *

_"That's preposterous." Molly mutters from the seat next to me, and I look down at her._

_"Not really." I dismiss, disinterested. _

_"But-"_

_"I didn't use any of the weapons." _

_"I know but you did the _thing_ on them." She retorts, rather more bravely than I'm used to. _

_It makes me remember the faces of the astonished Gamemakers as I just stood there and bled out every detail I could about their life. I read them and they couldn't help but want revenge. Their secrets, no longer theirs, and they couldn't bear to see me walk away from it without facing the consequences. _

_I smirk to myself. _

_"But they can't do that!" Molly cries and I roll my eyes. _

_"I won't win the games by analysing the other tributes. Focus on yourself, Molly." I scold, and then turn my full attention back to the screen. She manages to pull a 6, which obviously surprises her. All hope is not lost for Molly Hooper. And I won't need sponsors. _

* * *

"I didn't expect that." I murmur, writing down the numbers of District 3.

"Didn't you? District 3 isn't a career district. They don't train." Martha points out, and I shake my head.

"No, but he must have been clever enough to fetch a higher score." I say, tapping the pen against the notepaper.

District 3 is clever. Very clever. There's no way someone who looked as smug as Sherlock does would ever allow themselves a low score like that.

Unless of course it was deliberate.

* * *

**So we finally have some of the private training scores in! What do we think? Please let me know in the reviews, because no only is a great pointer, it's really encouraging, especially if you want more updates ;) Follows and favourites are much appreciated, and I would love to know any ideas you have about the story to come! **

**Stay as excellent and beautiful as you already are, **

**Lucy XXXX **

**P.S: REMEMBER TO REVIEW!**


	24. Training Results D4-D6

**Chapter 24**

**Rose Tyler's POV (Capitol) **

"Our tributes, Percy and Annabeth from District 4!" Caesar calls and I sit up. More careers. I wonder if they'll be as surprising as the other scores have been. The screen zooms up onto the face of Percy, who is staring steadfast at the camera, with bright green eyes washed with the grey of the screen graphics. He looks like a proper career; well built, lean, prepared.

"Percy Jackson earns a score of 11!" Announces Caesar and my eyebrows shoot up. A score of 11 is high, even for a career. Almost as if he already knew, Percy smiles on the on screen graphic and I can't help but wonder how he did it.

"That's impressive." Martha murmurs and I nod. Mickey must be kicking himself. That little thought really shouldn't give me as much satisfaction as it does, but hey-ho.

"And here we have Annabeth Chase! With a score of… 10!" Caesar calls and I nod.

"They're doing well this year." I murmur and Martha nods.

"Yeah. All six of the careers got top scores. They'll get a _lot_ of sponsors." She agrees.

* * *

_"Annabeth…" Percy begins and I scowl._

_"Forget it."_

_"Annabeth-"_

_"I said forget it. I'm fine." I snap, and stare back at the TV._

_I can try to pretend not to care that Percy got more than be, but I'm not convincing myself. Although if we'd both got an 11, I doubt District 1 would still agree to go with us. After all, Alice fetched an 8. That's verging on mediocre. As a District, we've don't best so far, and they all know my intelligence is my strong point. Which I honestly don't think the Gamemakers were marking on, as the smart-ass from 3 got a reassuringly low score. Perhaps it will be alright. Maybe it's a good thing I got a 10._

_Percy's 11 has made us a threat. My 11 would have us made us a target._

* * *

I watch as Caesar takes the screen again, and can't help smile at him. He'll be joined later on in the games by Castiel, the other presenter, but not until the actual competition. I generally like Castiel, but I do find him a bit… stiff. Rusty people skills, I think.

"And it gives me great pride to present our District 5 tributes!" He announces, the screen behind him changing to show the moving images of Amy Pond and Ron Weasley, their red hair edited to look even fierier.

"Ronald Weasley earns himself a score of…" Caesar pauses for effect, and Martha and I lean forwards. "7!" He calls and I nod. That sounds about average for District 5. They're known for being pretty mediocre, and the victors from there have only got through if they've had an alliance. Which isn't very often, so it's not surprising that District 5 has a small victor pool.

Ron smiles nervously on the screen and I get the same loyal aura from him as I did before. The screen ripples to show solely the picture of Amy Pond, who shoots the camera a superior look, and grins.

"Amy Pond, with a score of…" I can almost hear the drumroll. "9!" He announces. This time I feel my eyebrows shoot up. 9 is very good. It's a _career_ standard score, and even if not, it's better than Alice, the girl from 1, who was statistically supposed to get a score in the top three.

"She did well." I remark. Martha makes no comment as I not down her score, and smile up at the TV. It's really odd for me to be this excited, but I don't care.

* * *

_"Yes!" I grin, standing up and throwing my hands up in the air. "I did it!" I squeak happily._

_9._

_I actually managed to get a score worthy of the careers, which is shocking. I can't believe it! Ron doesn't look too put out either; as well he shouldn't be. A 7 is pretty good too. I'm still buzzing about my score though, and nothings gonna put me in a bad mood. I did better than the district 1 girl for God's sake._

_"Well done Amy." Our mentor, Dean, congratulates us, leaning forwards in his seat. "But sit down. You did well, but look at District 4." He points out and I pout, sitting back down with a harrumph. "Neither of you can let this get to your heads. You know what pride does in the games."_

_I nod. Dean Winchester has been a good mentor so far, and he's been firm. But trustable. Also, he won fairly recently, so he's still young enough to know all about the physical aspect of training._

_"And Ron, that was a good score, but you're going to have to do better in the interview." He points out and Ron nods, glumly._

_"Ok." He mumbles and Dean sighs._

_"Don't get me wrong, though, those were brilliant scores. Remember that. They Capitol know you're worth something."_

_I look over at Ron. We're not going to Ally, but I know he'll do well. Not only does he have the largest alliance, but he got a halfway decent score._

_I think we'll both be just fine._

* * *

"And now, I present the Lightwood twins from District 6!" Caesar announces, and the Adonis twins appear on the screen, dark haired and gorgeous.

"They're very pretty." Martha says, smiling and I nod.

"Including the boy." I add and she laughs. It's true. They both look like models, even without the capitol surgery I'm used to seeing.

"Alec Lightwood receives a score of…" Caesar begins and the screen changes to show only Alec. He smiles briefly and then looks deadly serious again, his sculpted face still beautiful. "10!"

"Oh my God." Martha and I chorus at the same time. He's from District 6! How on earth did he manage that? Do they _train_ now, or what? He's going to do so well. He's attractive, clearly good with weapons, and if he interviews as well as he looks, sponsors are not something he'll be short of. We both watch, astounded, as Isabelle receives the same score and, as if she knows it, shoots us a smug smile.

"That's incredible." I mutter. Martha reaches for her phone. She quickly finds Mickey's number and puts him on speakerphone.

"Are you seeing this?" She asks him, still staring at the screen, watching in astonishment as the twins shoot each other triumphant smiles. Which is weird, seeing as the images they use are pre-recorded and they couldn't have known what they were going to get. They must be very proud if they thought they were going to do well .Which they clearly did, looking at their faces.

"I can't believe this." Mickey replies, sounding kind of pissed off. Which isn't surprising.

"Regretting your bet?" I ask him, more snidely than I should.

"Ah, you'd love that wouldn't you?" He laughs and I smile. "Nah. That boy from 2 still did well." He adds and I nod. It's true.

"Yeah, you're right." I reply. "It's still surprising though."

I'm not wrong.

The scores have shocked me this year. I don't think anyone from 6 has ever got such a high score, and even District 5 did well.

These games are going to be interesting.

* * *

**OOOOOOH MORE SCORES! Do we think these are realistic? In the TMI series, Alec and Isabelle have been demon hunting for a LONG time so I thought it was only right they got high scores. And people seem to like Amy in this fic, so I felt I owed her a good score. So ultimately what did we think? Good chapter? bad chapter? Let me know in the reviews! **

**Stay excellent, and shine bright like a District 5 lightbulb, **

**Lucy XXX**


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